UIGSB  tlBRARY 
:3/  -  535<i>M 


THE    OLD    ELM. 

See  page  o7. 


VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM; 


OB, 


UNCLE  HENRY'S  TALKS   WITH  THE 
LITTLE  FOLKS. 


By   Rev^H.   p.   ANDREWS, 

AUTHOR   OF   "SIX.    STEPS   TO    HOXOR." 


"  LeaU  them  gently  in  the  wny 

To  life  and  hfnvnn ; 
For  it  is  tt>  such  as  tbey 

That  cronriis  are  given." 


Nciv  Dork 


PUBLISHED    BY    CAllLTOX    S:    PoRTKl; 

8ITNDAY  SCHOOL  UNION,    iOO  MULBEKRT-STREET. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1S57,  by 
CARLTOX  &  PORl^]:, 

In   the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Southern 
District  of  New-York. 


PREFACE. 


The  following  pages  are  designed 
for  yonng  reader^;.  The  author  has 
earnestly  and  prayerfully  endeavored 
so  to  bring  out  the  most  important 
thoughts  belonging  to  the  main  sul)- 
ject  of  the  book,  as  to  allure  the 
youthful  mind  to  their  contempla- 
tion. The  task  is  a  delicate  one; 
and  if  the  presen  ■  attempt  is  a  fail- 
ure, the  writer  w^JI  not  be  alone  in 
his  sorrow ;  others,  have  failed  before 
him.  But  he  fc  idly  hopes  he  has 
jdot  failed.     One  ■<  liing  he  has  sought 


6  PREFACE. 

to  keep  constantly  in  view,  namely: 
that  he  was  writing  for  children.  If 
they  are  pleased  and  benefited,  his 
heart  will  be  gladdened.  To  con- 
tribute something  toward  secm-ing 
them  from  surrounding  evil,  is  his 
ardent  des-ire.  With  a  prayer  for 
the  Divine  blessing  upon  his  little 
book,  it  is  passed  into  the  open 
hands  of  the  children  of  the  Church. 
May  its  'Voices"  reach  their  hearts,, 
and  lead  to  dayly  prayer  and  lives 
of  earnest  piety. 

The  Author. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE   ARRIVAI>. 

The  Lotter  —  "  Uncle  Henry  is  coming"  —  Eemlnisceoces  —  The 
Old  IlomesUiad  —  Death  of  Parents  — The  Orphans  —  Trust  ia 
God  —  Prosperity  —  Preparations  for  the  Guest  —  Henry's  Ar- 
rival — Welcome page  13 

CHAPTER  IL 

Busy  Morning  —  Sabbath  —  Early  Walk  —  A  Place  to  Pray  —The 
Old  Pastor  —  The  Sermon— The  Party  decided  u[Ktn— Wednes- 
day Morning  —  Disappointment  —  The  Swing  —  Happy  Time 

—  Fair  Weather  —  Preparations  for  the  Party  —  Arrival  of  the 
Children  — Supi^er  under  the  Old  Elm  —  What  shall  we  Play  ? 

—  The  Ecquest  —  Meeting  under  the  Old  Elm 28 

CHAPTER  IIL 

"  AFTKK   THIS   MANNER   THEREFORE   PRAY    YE." 

What  is  Prayer  ?  —  Not  mere  Words  —  Three  Things  considered 

—  Prayer  includes  Sease  of  Need  —  The  Rich  Beggar  —  Why 
did  he  beg?  — Susan's  Difficulty  —  Different  Origin  of  Wants 

—  College  Incident  —  Prayer  includes  Confidence  in  God  —  His 
Ability  —  All-p<nverful,  All-wise,  AU-present  —  His  Willingness 

—  Shown  from  Bible  and  Experience  — Examples  —  Prayer 
includes  Submission  to  God's  Will  —  Proof —Summing  up  the 
Argument  — The  Request  — Consent  — Future  MeetiDgs. . ,  89 


8  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

MOUNT  PLEASANT. 

Tbo  Excursion  —  Following  np  tho  Stream  —  Fine  String  of  Fish 

—  The  carious  Pond  — On  the  Mountain  — View— The  Cot- 
tage—Jennie—The Spy-Glass  —  Lesson  in  Optics  —  Keturn 
Home PAGE  68 

CHAPTER  V. 

'•OUK  iATHER   WUO   ART   IN   HE^\.VEN." 

Second  Meeting —Little  Ella  Sick  —  Sympathy  —  Is  there  a  God  ? 

—  How  known  —  From  his  TTorks  —  "I'm  sure" — Tracks. in 
the  Snow  — The  Seasons  — Tts  Book  — The  Painting  — The 
Mansion  —  God's  Character  —  How  discovered  —  Contradictions 
in  Nature  —  In  Providence — The  Bible  —  God's  Book—  God 
"  Our  Father"-  His  Love,  Kindness,  Patience,  Mercy  —  Pruofs 

—  "Waking  up  in  the  Morning 75 

CHAPTJ  R  VI. 

"hallowed  b:   thy  naiie." 

Meaning  of  "hallowed"  —  God's  IJ&vae  to  be  Hallowed- In  our 
Thoughts  —  Sarah  Stanhope—  ^Hcked  Thoughts— "Were  they 
her  own  ?  —  Pilgrim's  Progre  .  —  Dark  "Valley  —  "Whispered 
Blasphemies  — Harry's  Temp -i.tion  —  Opposite  Effects  — In 
our  "Words —  Profanity  "Wicked  —  Incident  —  Swearing  unman- 
ly —  Washington  —  Howard  —  Dr.  Gifford  — Catching  Fish 
without  a  Bait —  Sad  Eesults  of  Profanity  —  Incidents. 109 

CHAPTER  Vn. 


THE   POCElT-BOOK. 

The  Visit— Pleasant  Time  — Th^  Eeturn  — The  Prize  found- 
Exhibited  —  Visions  of  "Wealth  —The  Pony  — "Is  the  Money 
Mine?"— Tlie  lost  Pony  — "Whose  is  it?— Wliat  constitutes 
Proj.erty  ?  —  ''  The  Money  is  n<.  t  Mine"  —  Decision 134 


CONTENTS.  y 

CHAPTER  Via 

UONESTY   THE  BEST   rOLICY. 

Advertising  the  Pocket-Book  —  The  Splendid  Carriage  —  Beauti- 
ful Lady  —  Owner  of  the  Money  —  "  Proves  Property"  —  Wil- 
lie's Reward— The  Agreeable  Surprise— Old  Friends. . .  page  146 

CHAPTER  IX. 

MONEY  AT  INTEREST. 

"Walter  Martyn  —The  Eescue  — Results— Joins  the  Church  — 
Willie's  Father— Willie's  Gold  — "What  shall  I  do  with  it?" 

—  The  Savings  Bank  — The  Gold  Deposited  —  Money  at  In- 
terest  Ii34 

CHAPTER  X. 

"  THY  KINGDOM   COilE,   THY  "WILL   BE   DONE   ON  E.VETH  A3   IT 
IS  IN  HEAVEN." 

Stormy  Friday  —  Pleasant  Morning  —  Joy  —  The  Boys'  Plan  — 
Mother  is  willing  —  Going  for  Ella  —  Jennie's  Ride  —  Ella's  Joy 

—  The  Return  —  Another  Meeting  —  All  there  —  Kingdom  of 
God  —  Explained  —  Kingdom  of  Grace  —  Its  Seat  in  the  Heart 

—  Is  to  be  Universal  —  Extended  by  Agents  —  Emily's  Wish  — 
Test  of  Love  —  Neglected  Children  —  A  Sinful  World  —  "  What 
can  Little  Folks  do  ?"  —  They  can  Pray  —  Pennies  for  the  Mis- 
sionary —  Scattering  Flower  Seeds 164: 

CHAPTER  XI. 

BEGINNING   TO  WORK. 

Little  Clara—  Her  Drunken  Father  —  "  What  can  I  do  ?"—  Clara's 
Resolve  —  The  Discovery  —  Penitence  —  Resolution  to  Reform 

—  Sabbath  Morning  —  The  Walk  —  Prayer  —  Decision  —  TIi o 
Drunkard  Converted  —  Happy  Home 183 

CHAPTER  XII. 

"gI\'E  us  THIS  DAY  OUR  DAYLY  BRE.VD." 

Happy  Clara  —  Saved  her  Father  —  The  Reformed  Man  —  Un- 
christian Doubts  —  Henry's  Joy  — Subject  of  Conversation  — 


10  CONTENTS, 

Meaning  of  the  Words  —  Form  of  Petition  —  Manna  In  the  Wil- 
derness—  Manner  of  Keceiving  —  Spirit  of  Petition  —  Teaches 
Dependence  —  God  alone  has  Power  —  Expression  of  Faith  — 
What  is  Active  Faith?  —  God  never  Forgets  — The  Silver 
Dollar  —  The  Poor  Children  and  the  Miser  — The  Guinea  in 
the  Ashes page  197 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

NED  WILDER. 

Picking  Strawberries  —  Ned's  Wickedness  —  The  Fight— Stran- 
ger —  Cowardice— True  Courage  —Why  did  Edward  do  so?  — 
Robert's  Nobleness 222 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

"forgive  us  OTTB  DEBT3,  AS  WE  FORGIVE   OXJR  DEBTORS." 

Another  Meeting  —  Meaning  of  "Debts"— What  is  Sin?  — All 
Guilty  —  Terms  of  Pardon — Forgive  us  as  we  forgive  —  Wo 
must  forgive  fully — A  Kiss  for  a  Blow  — We  must  forgive 
speedily  —  Peter  and  his  Mill  —  The  Letter  —  Eesults  —  We 
must  forgive  condescendingly  —  "While  we  were  yet  Sinners 
He  loved  us"  —  We  must  forgive  aflFectionately  —  From  the 
Heart  —  Matt,  xviii,  34,  35  —  Carl  Thorn  and  the  Miller's  Boy 
—  The  Broken  Ship 234 

CHAPTER  XV. 

"lead    TJ3    NOT    INTO    TEMTTAHON,    BUT    DELIVER    US    FROM 
EVIL." 

Kichard  Winthrope  —  Continues  firm  —  Christian  Effort  —  Eobert 
and  Edward  —  Love  Conquers  —  The  Meeting  —  Edward  Pres- 
ent—  Does  God  tempt?  —  James  i,  13  —  Hardening  Pharaoh's 
Heart  —  Sources  of  Temptation  —  Satan  the  First  Tempter  — 
The  World  —  Its  Riches  —  Its  Pleasures  —  The  Flesh  —  Usual 
Course  of  Temptation  —  Progressive  —  Harry  Hapgood  and  the 
Pears  — How  Harry  became  a  Thief— Four  Steps  — Achan  — 
His  Confession  —  "I  saw ;  I  coveted  ;  I  took  ;  I  hid" —  Obeying 
Orders  —  Four  Things  to  be  considered  —  Sin  leads  to  Misery  — 
Kind  Words  —  Conclusion 2S8 


lUttstratiijns* 


PA08 

TjtE  Old  Elm 2 

Willie  Comforting  Jexxie 29 

Willie  and  the  Pocket-Book 137 

The  Poor  Woman's  unknown  Friend 213 


VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM, 


-♦♦>■ 


CHAPTEK  I. 

THE     ARRIVAL. 

"  Mother  !  mother !  I  have  got  a  letter 
from  Uncle  Henry.  I  know  it  is  from 
liim,  for  the  writing  looks  just  like  tbat  in 
my  Christmas  present,"  shouted  Willie 
Manl}^,  as,  returning  from  the  post-office, 
he  burst,  hat  in  hand,  into  the  kitchen, 
where  his  mother  was  busy  with  her 
morning  duties. 

"Let  me  see  it,  my  son,"  said  Mrs. 
Manly,  hastily  wiping  her  hands.  Then 
taking  the  letter,  she  glanced  at  the  direc- 
tions, while  a  joyous  light  flitted  across 
her  usually  calm  face. 


14  VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

The  seal  was  broken  and  the  letter  read, 
while  Willie  stood  waiting  by  his  mother's 
side,  impatient  to  hear  the  news. 

"Well,  Willie,"  said  his  mother,  folding 
up  the  letter,  "  your  uncle  has  promised 
us  a  visit,  and  says  he  shall  be  here  to-day 
or  to-morrow." 

"  Good !  good !"  cried  the  excited  boy, 
clapping  his  hands,  and  running  away  to 
the  garden  to  communicate  the  joyful 
news  to  Cousin  Charles  and  Sister  Jennie, 
who  were  out  weeding  their  flower-beds. 

"  O,  Jennie !"  he  cried,  bounding  down 
the  broad  center  walk,  his  face  glowing, 
and  his  large  hazel  eyes  flasliing  with  ex- 
citement ;  "  mother  has  got  a  letter  from 
Uncle  Henry,  and  you  can't  guess  what 
he  says !" 

"No,  I  can't,  but  what  does  he  say?" 
and  the  girl  lifted  her  beautiful  face,  full 
of  wonder,  from  her  work,  and  shook  back 
the  golden  ringlets  which  had  fallen  over 
her  rosy  cheeks. 

"  He's  coming  to  make  us  a  visit,  and 
will  be  here  to-day  or  to-morrow ;  hur-? 
ra!" 


THE  ARRIVAL.  16 

"  O,  I'm  SO  glad !"  answered  the  sister, 
while  Willie  fairly  danced  with  delight. 
Even  Cousin  Charles,  who  had  come  from 
the  city  to  spend  the  summer  at  Rose  Cot- 
tage, could  not  help  participating  in  the 
joy  of  the  happy  children,  although  he 
had  never  seen  the  loved  uncle,  whose 
expected  coming  had  caused  such  joyous 
emotions. 

Great  was  the  stir  at  the  cottage  that 
day,  in  prospect  of  the  arrival  of  Mr. 
Woodman,  who  was  expected  to  prolong 
his  stay  at  his  sister's  quite 'through  the 
summer.  The  children  were  overjoyed, 
for  Uncle  Henry  was  a  decided  favorite 
with  the  little  folks  ;  and  Mre.  Manly  and 
her  excellent  husband  largely  shared  in 
their  pleasure. 

Uncle  Henry,  as  the  children  called 
him,  had  never  been  able  to  pass  much 
time  with  his  only  sister,  since  the  death 
of  their  parents  had  separated  them,  for 
Providence  had  cast  their  lots  so  widely 
asunder.  But  now,  having,  by  the  energy 
of  his  own  will,  with  the  blessing  of  God 
upon   his   efforts,  completed   his   college 


16  VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

course  and  his  Biblical  studies,  he  pro- 
posed  to  spend  a  few  months  in  the  retire- 
ment of  her  beautiful  home,  previous  to 
entering  upon  his  solemn  duties  as  a  min- 
ister of  the  Gospel. 

Henry  and  his  sister,  who  was  now  Mrs. 
Woodman,  were  the  only  children  of  poor 
but  virtuous  parents.  Living,  during  their 
early  childhood,  quite  remote  from  the 
homes  of  others,  they  had  learned  to  love 
each  other  all  the  more  dearly,  and  to 
look  for  happiness  alone  in  their  own 
little  home-circle. 

Sarah  was  five  years  old  when  the  little 
cunning  babe,  with  his  fat,  chubby  hands, 
and  dimpled  cheeks,  and  mild,  blue  eyes, 
was  placed  in  her  arms,  and  she  was  told 
to  call  him  brother.  She  loved  him  then, 
and  her  affection  had  been  gathering 
strength  through  all  the  long  years  which 
had  passed  since. 

Henry  w^as  gathering  the  roses  of  his 
eighth  summer  when  his  kind-  father  died ; 
and  scarce  had  the  early  frosts  of  autumn 
tinged  the  brightness  of  the  forests,  when 
liis  loving  mother,  committing  her  dar- 


THE  ARRIVAL.  17 

lings  to  the  care  of  Heaven,  lay  clown  to 
sleep  beside  her  husband's  grave. 

Sad,  indeed,  were  the  hearts  of  the  or- 
phans, as  they  returned  from  the  lonely 
graveyard  to  their  still  more  lonely  and 
desolate  home.  They  took  the  old,  worn 
Bible  from  the  stand  at  the  head  of  their 
mother's  bed,  and  found  the  precious 
promises  which  their  parents  had  so  often 
read  to  them.  Then  they  knelt  down 
side  by  side,  and  committed  themselves 
to  the  orphan's  God.  Earthly  friends  they 
had  none ;  but  they  had  a  Father  in 
heaven,  and  to  him  they  fled  in  the  hour 
of  their  need,  and  were  comforted.  They 
read  that  precious  promise,  "  When  thy 
father  and  thy  mother  foi*sake  thee,  then 
the  Lord  shall  take  thee  up,"  and  in  their 
hearts  they  believed  it  true. 

"  God  will  surely  provide  for  us,  Hen- 
ry," said  the  sister  to  her  sobbing  brother; 
and  then  they  laid  themselves  down  to 
sleep. 

And  ever  since  that  hour  of  weeping, 
upon  the  sad  evening  following  the  funeral 
of  their  dear   mother,   Providence    had 


18  VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

provided  for  the  pious,  trusting  orphans. 
Friends  were  raised  up,  and  good  homes 
provided  for  them.  True,  it  was  found 
necessary  to  separate  them,  yet  every- 
thing was  made  as  pleasant  as  possible 
for  the  sorrowing  children. 

And  now,  after  an  absence  of  a  score 
of  years,  with  only  brief,  occasional  visits, 
that  brother  was  coming  to  find,  for  a 
time,  a  home  with  his  still  loving  sister. 

Mi*s.  Manly  took  the  letter  which  con- 
tained the  welcome  news,  and  retired  into 
the  little  room,  rendered  sacred  by  holy 
communings.  Here  had  she  knelt  every 
day  for  the  twelve  years  of  her  wedded 
life,  to  pray  for  God's  blessing  upon  the 
efforts  of  her  almost  idolized  brother,  who, 
far  away,  was  laboring  to  clad  himself  for 
holy  warfare.  And  God  had  answered 
her  prayers.  The  work  was  accomplished. 
Every  barrier  had  been  removed,  every 
difficulty  surmounted,  and  Henry  was 
returning  to  rejoice  with  her,  who, 
more  than  all  others,  had  encouraged 
him  in  his  work,  and  ministered  to  his 
success. 


THE  ARRIVAL.  19 

The  mind  of  the  prayiug  sister  went 
back  to  other  daye.  Again  she  was  a 
little  girl,  pressing  that  baby  brother  to 
Iier  heart.  Again  she  played  with  him 
amid  the  flowers,  and  listened  to  the  song 
of  birds.  She  thought  of  the  blighting  of 
their  early  hopes  iu  the  death  of  their  lov- 
ing parents.  Step  by  step,  she  followed 
the  strange  windings  of  the  past,  marking 
the  hand  of  God  at  every  turn,  until  that 
path  which  led  from  the  darkness  of  the 
house  of  death  opened  out  into  the  bright- 
ness of  the  joyous  present,  crowned  with 
the  sunshine  of  honorable  success. 

Very  grateful  and  very  happy  was  the 
heart  of  the  pious  woman,  as  she  went 
singing  back  to  her  morning  labors. 

The  children  had  much  to  do.  Not  a 
weed  must  be  left  in  their  little  garden,  for 
Uncle  Henry  was  very  particular.  The 
vine  must  also  be  tied  up  into  festoons 
over  the  window  of  the  charming  little 
guest-chamber.  Fresh,  green  boughs  must 
fill  the  marble  fire-place,  a  bouquet  of  the 
choicest  wild-flowery  must  grace  the  an- 
tique china  vase  on  tlie  mantle,  and  clear 
2 


20  VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

soft  water  from  the  sparkling  spring  on 
the  hill-side,  fill  the  urn-like  pitcher  on 
the  neatly  covered  wash-stand. 

And  then  there  was  the  front  yard, 
shaded  by  the  old  wide-spreading  elm, 
that,  too,  must  be  examined.  Every  stone 
was  gathered  up,  every  dried  leaf  and 
decayed  branch  removed ;  and  when  it 
haS  all  been  raked  over  with  Willie's 
nice  garden  rake,  it  fairly  smiledy  it  was 
so  clean  and  bright. 

Then  Willie  took  his  little  wheelbarrow, 
and  Charles  the  bright  garden  shovel 
which  Mr.  Manley  had  just  bought  for  his 
son,  and  away  down  the  ro-ad  they  ran, 
happy  as  the  bii^is  whieh  sang  in  the 
trees,  and  as  full  of  mirth  and  laughter  as 
the  rill  that  came  leaping  and  dancing 
from  the  hill-^iide,  and  went  singing  along 
under  the  little  bridge,  and  away  through 
the  fields  and  meadows,  tracking  its  course 
with  venlure,.and  leaving  the  bright  fl:ow« 
ers  to  mark  its  windings. 

For  an  hour  or  more  the  two  happy 
boys  worked  with  a  will,  taking  turns  ia 
wheeling  the  heavy  loads.     At  last^  the 


THE   ARRIVAL.  21 

broad  walk  tliat  led  from  the  front  door. 


shaded  with  its  fragrant  honeysuckles 
down  to  the  road,  was  all  covered  ov^er 
with  a  thick  dressing  of  clean,  new 
gravel. 

It  was  past  three  o'clock  when  all  was 
completed ;  and  the  three  children,  wash- 
ed and  neatly  dressed,  sat  down  upon  the 
green  grass  beneath  the  Old  Elm  to  await 
the  return  of  Willie's  father,  who  had 
gone  to  the  d6p6t  for  Uncle  Henry,  hop- 
ing to  meet  him  there.  Soon  the  shrill 
whistle  of  the  engine  was  heard,  and  in  a 
short  time  Mr.  Manle}^  returned,  accompa- 
nied by  his  brother-in-law. 

A  joyous  meeting  was  that  under  the 
shade  of  the  Old  Elm,  and  very  happy  did 
they  all  seem,  as  Mr.  Manley  and  his  wife 
led  the  way  into  their  sunny  cottage,  fol- 
lowed by  Henry,  with  the  children  cling- 
ing to  both  his  hands. 

"Welcome  home!  my  dear  brother," 
said  Mrs.  Manley,  handing  him  to  a  large 
eas}^  chair,  and  leaving  a  kiss  upon  his 
noble  brow. 

"  Thank  you,  sister." 


22  VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

It  was  all  he  could  say.  Home!  how 
the  word  thrilled  to  his  soul,  and  awaken- 
ed echoes  which  had  slumbered  through 
80  many  weary  yeai's* 


THE  PARTY.  28 

CHAPTER  n. 

THE   PARTY. 

Henry  Woodman  arrived  at  his  sister's 
on  Friday,  and  the  next  day  he  was 
shown  all  the  wonders  of  the  place.  First, 
he  must  go  out  with  the  children  and  ad- 
mire their  neat  garden.  Tlien  the  boys 
must  lead  him  down  to  the  brook  to  view 
their  mimic  saw-mill,  and  see  how  nicely  it 
would  run.  Then  Willie  had  some  of  the 
whitest  of  rabbits,  and  Jennie  a  brood  of  the 
*'  cunningest"  little  bantam  chickens  that 
ever  were  seen,  and  these  must  be  looked 
at,  and  duly  admired  and  praised. 

A  busy  morning  they  had  of  it,  I  assure 
you,  and  it  was  nothing  but  "  Uncle  Hen- 
ry, please  go  with  me  and  see  this,"  and 
"  Uncle  Henry,  do  come  here,"  and  "  Uncle 
Henry,  you  must  go  with  me  now,"  until 
their  mother  said  she  was  afraid  they  would 
make  Uncle  Henry  wish  he  had  never 
come  to  visit  them.     But  the  only  answer 


24  VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

lie  made  her  was  to  put  back  the  curls 
from  Jennie's  rosy  cheek,  and  kiss  the 
darling  child  as  she  sat  on  his  knee  with 
her  soft  arms  clasped  around  his  neck. 

Brightly  rose  the  sun  upon  the  Sabbath 
morn,  and  sweetly  did  nature  return  his 
cheerincfsmile,  as  Henrv  left  his  chamber 
and  walked  along  the  narrow  path  that  led 
from  the  garden  across  the  rustic  bridge, 
and  up  the  hill-side  to  the  beautiful  grove 
of  maples  which  crowned  the  summit. 

He  was  searching  for  a  place  to  which 
he  might  dayly  retire  to  read  God's  holy 
word,  to  meditate  upon  his  goodness,  and 
to  pray.  And  he  found  just  what  he  de- 
sired. It  was  a  charming  spot  upon  the 
shady  side  of  a  great  rock,  over  which  a 
luxuriant  vine  was  creeping,  wreathed  by 
the  hand  of  nature  into  gi'aceful  festoons, 
above  the  mossy  seat  upon  which  he  was 
seated.  Almost  at  his  feet,  a  little  rill 
went  singing  along,  leaping  in  fairy  cas- 
cades from  rock  to  rock.  Around  him 
the  birds  were  singing  their  morning 
songs,  while  the  many  hued  flowers  raised 
their  smiling  faces,  gemmed  with  diamond 


THE   PARTY.  25 

dew-drops,  to  meet  tlie  rising  snn,  and  tlie 
air  was  filled  with  their  delicious  Ira- 
grajice. 

It  was  a  morning  to  lead  the  minds  of 
tlie  devout  to  hoi}'  thoughts  ;  and  when 
Henrj  returned  to  the  cottage  an  hour 
later,  his  sister  knew^  by  the  bright  light 
that  beamed  in  his  eye,  and  glowed  upon 
his  features,  that  he  ^'  had  been  with 
Jesus." 

Joyfully  passed  the  Sabbath,  Mr.  Mil- 
der, the  aged  pastor,  who,  for  almost  fifty 
years,  had  ministered  in  holy  things,  was 
this  day  more  than  usually  impressive. 
He  seemed  to  speak  as  one  standing  on 
the  very  verge  of  eternity.  How^  short 
and  fleeting  seemed  the  present  life,  as 
from  the  brink  of  the  grave  he  glanced 
back  at  his  own  cradled  infancy,  and 
traced  the  path  in  which  Providence  liad 
led  him !  And  how  glorious  and  desira- 
ble appeared  the  future,  as  it  glowed  in  the 
open  vision  of  one  who  was  standing  on 
Fisgtih's  height. 

The  preacher  had  for  his  text  tliat  day, 
the  beautiful  words  of  the  Psalmist:  "I 


26  VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

have  been  joung,  and  now  am  old,  jet 
have  I  not  seen  the  righteous  forsaken, 
nor  his  seed  begging  bread."  'No  words 
could  have  been  more  appropriate.  The 
entire  history  of  his  own  life  was  a  strik- 
ing comment  upon  their  truth.  The 
promise  implied  had  been  verified  in 
the  dayly  experience  of  his  long  and  use- 
ful labors. 

Henry  did  not  wonder,  while  listening 
to  that  morning's  discourse,  so  full  of 
holy  faith  and  deep,  gushing  feeling,  that 
the  aged  divine  had  so  strong  a  hold  upon 
the  affections  of  the  people.  He  felt  that 
he  was  in  the  presence  of  a  master  in 
Israel.  As  he  looked  around  upon  that 
crowd  of  intent  listeners,  he  saw  a  skillful 
hand  sweeping  the  delicate  chords  of  the 
hearts. 

Before  the  letter  from  Uncle  Woodman 
was  received,  it  had  been  arranged  that 
Jennie  and  her  brother  should  have  a 
party  of  their  mates  to  visit  them  at  Rose 
Cottage,  on  the  next  Wednesday  after- 
noon. Mrs.  Manley,  however,  proposed, 
as  they  had  company  now,  that  the  party 


THE   PARTY.  27 

should  be  dispensed  with,  at  least  for  the 
present.  To  this  Uncle  Henry  strongly 
objected.  He  loved  children  dearly,  and 
nothing  could  please  him  better  than  such 
a  gathering ;  and  so  the  party  was  decided 
upon. 

Willie  was  up  betimes  on  Wednesday 
morning.  He  ran  to  the  window,  and 
drew  aside  the  curtain,  but  could  hardly 
repress  a  tear  when  he  found  it  raining. 
"It  is  too  bad  !"  were  his  first  w^ords ;  but 
he  checked  himself  in  a  moment,  for  his 
mother  had  often  told  him  that  he  should 
never  allow  himself  to  be  disappointed  at 
anything  which  his  heavenly  Father  had 
done. 

Willie  awaked  his  Cousin  Cliarles,  and 
after  dressing  themselves,  washing  their 
hands  and  faces,  and  combing  tlieir  hair, 
they  knelt  down,  each  by  his  little  chair, 
silently  thanked  God  for  his  care  through 
the  night,  and  implored  his  blessings  upon 
them  during  the  day.  Nor  did  Willie 
forget  to  pray  for  grace  patiently  to  bear 
his  disappointment.  He  had  thought 
much  of  the  party  ;  and  the  arrival  of  his 


28  VOICES   FROM   THE   OLD  ELM. 

uncle  had  only  increased  his  hopes  of 
having  a  pleasant  time.  The  falling  rain 
was,  therefore,  a  severe  trial  to  him. 

When  the  boys  went  down  to  breakfast, 
they  found  Jennie  sitting  by  the  window, 
crying  bitterly.  She,  too,  had  set  her 
heart  upon  the  party,  and  was  feeling 
badly. 

Willie  went  up  to  his  sister  and  gave 
her  his  usual  morning  hiss :  and,  putting 
his  arm  around  her  tenderly,  tolJ  her 
'^ot  to  cry,  for  God  had  made  it  rain." 
Then  he  wiped  the  tears  away  with  his 
little  handkerchief,  and  smoothed  back 
her  beautiful  hair;  and  Charles  made 
snch  funny  speeches,  that  she  had  to  langh 
in  spite  of  her  tears ;  and  by  the  time 
Uncle  Henry  came  down  from  his  cham- 
ber, the  children  were  as  smiling  and  as 
eager  for  his  kind  greeting,  as  if  it  had 
been  a  fine  morning. 

After  breakfast  was  over,  and  they  had 
attended  to  tlie  family  devotions,  Uncle 
Henry  asked  Mr.  Manley  if  he  had  a 
rope,  as  he  wished  to  make  a  swing  for 
the  children  in   the   barn.     Mr.  Manley 


WILLIE    COMFORTING    JENNIE 


THE   PAKTY.  31 

went  up  into  the  garret,  and  brought 
down  one  which  had  been  there  for  a 
number  of  years.  It  was  quite  as  strong 
as  new,  and  sufficiently  long,  Uncle  Henry 
thought,  for  his  purpose. 

Taking  the  rope  in  his  hand,  he  went 
out  into  the  barn  with  the  children,  and 
soon  had  his  swing  suspended  from  the 
"  great  beams."  Then  he  fitted  a  board 
for  a  seat,  upon  which  the  children  could 
sit  securely,  by  grasping  the  rope  on  either 
side  of  them  with  their  hands. 

When  all  was  ready,  Mr.  Woodman 
requested  Willie  to  get  in,  and  he  would 
swing  him.  But  Willie  preferred  that 
Charles  should  have  the  first  swing ;  and 
Charles  thought  the  first  chance  belonged 
to  Jennie,  because  she  was  the  Youngest. 
The  uncle  was  much  pleased  to  see  them 
so  careful  of  the  happiness  of  each  other ; 
and  lifting  Jennie  to  the  seat,  he  gave 
her  a  nice  swing.  At  first  she  was  rather 
timid  ;  but  the  fear  soon  wore  ofiT,  and  she 
enjoyed  the  sport  finely.  Then  Charles 
took  his  turn,  and  after  him  Willie. 

A  long  time  was  spent  in  this  manner. 


32  VOICES  FKOM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

The  children  were  in  line  spirits.  They 
seen.ed  entirely  to  have  forgotten  their 
bad  feelings  in  the  morning,  and  were  as 
happy  as  need  be.  Right  merrily  did 
their  laughing  ring  through  the  empty 
barn,  startling  the  swallows  from  their 
nests,  and  occasioning  a  great  twittering 
among  the  feathered  colony,  which  had  set- 
tled upon  the  old  rafters  and  braces  of  the 
heavily-timbered  roof  Out  at  the  little 
three-cornered  "swallow-hole"  they  flew, 
and  in  at  the  wide  open  door  they  plunged, 
almost  into  the  faces  of  the  joyous  children. 
It  was  some  time  before  the  birds  became 
reconciled  to  the  swinging  process;  but 
at  last  they  retired  to  their  nests  again. 
And  there  they  sat,  with  their  little  heads 
peering  over  the  sides,  and  their  sharp, 
twinkling  eyes  watching  every  movement 
of  the  company  below,  looking  "so  cun- 
ning," that  little  laughing  Jennie  clapped 
her  hands  in  wildest  glee. 

So  busy  had  Henry  and  the  children 
been,  that  none  of  them  had  noticed  the 
fact  tliat  the  rain  had  ceased,  and  a  briglit 
belt  of  clear,  blue  sky  was  skirting  the 


THE  PARTY.  83 

west,  lifting  every  moment  the  clouds 
higher  and  higher,  and  giving  promise  of 
a  beautiful  afternoon.  When,  therefore, 
tliey  turned  to  leave  their  sport,  and  Mr. 
Woodman  was  about  to  open  his  umbrella, 
to  protect  himself  and  Jennie  from  the  rain, 
lo,  the  rain  was  gone,  and  the  sun  was 
just  struggling  through  the  parting  clouds. 

Preparations  were  now  commenced  in 
earnest  for  tlie  party.  Playthings  were  all 
arranged ;  hoops,  balls,  bats,  etc.,  for  the 
boys  ;  and  grace-hoops,  shuttle-cocks,  bat- 
tle-doors, and  picture-books  for  the  girls. 
Uncle  Henr}^  had  to  be  consulted  a  score 
of  times,  and  his  opinion  was  law  with  the 
happy  trio. 

"  How  lucky  that  uncle  thought  of  the 
swing,"  said  Willie. 

"  Yes ;  and  what  beautiful  bats  he  has 
made  for  us,"  replied  Charles. 

"And  only  see  my  new  grace-hoop  ;" 
and  Jennie  held  up  her  prize,  neatly  trim- 
med with  ribbons.  "  And  what  cunning 
sticks  to  play  with.  O,  Nellie  and  I  shall 
have  such  a  good  time  " 

Dinner  was  announced,  but  so  happy 


34  VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

were  the  children,  and  so  full  of  expecta- 
tion  that  thej  had  little  appetite  for  food. 
Jennie  waited  as  patiently  as  she  could  for 
her  mother  to  tinish  the  work  in  the  kitch- 
en, and  then  they  retired  to  prepare  for 
tlie  company.  Willie  and  Charles,  attired 
in  their  best,  were  already  out  by  the  front 
gate,  impatiently  awaiting  the  arrival  of 
their  guests. 

In  due  time  all  was  ready,  and  the  sister 
joined  her  brother  and  cousin,  looking  as 
charming  as  the  flowers  blooming  by  her 
side.  The  children  began  to  arrive  about 
two  o'clock,  and  in  half  an  hour  the  min- 
gling of  more  than  a  score  of  happy  voices 
"  made  sucli  music  in  the  little  cottage," 
Uncle  Henry  said,  "as  angels  might  de- 
light to  hear." 

A  happier  company  never  played  be- 
neath the  Old  Elm,  or  chased  each  other 
down  the  broad,  smooth  walk  of  the  neat 
garden,  or  scampered  across  tlie  rustic 
bridge,  or  gathered  wild  flowers  beside 
the  singing  brooklet.  Yery  happy,  too, 
was  Uncle  Henry,  as  he  sat  at  the  window, 
and  watched  their  joyous  gambols. 


THE   PARTY.  35 

As  the  hour  for  tea  drew  near,  Willie 
and  Charles  came  running  into  the  cot- 
tage with  a  new  thouo:ht  in  their  heads. 
*'  MIglit  they  have  supper  out  under  the 
Old  Elm-tree  ?     It  would  be  so  pretty." 

Yes,  mother  was  willing ;  and  away  the 
children  bounded  to  carry  the  important 
news  to  their  mates.  A  loud  "*  Hurra !" 
arose  from  the  company,  and  those  in  the 
cottage  knew  that  the  matter  was  ''ap- 
proved." 

The  long  table  was  carried  out,  and  cov- 
ered with  a  clean  white  cloth,  the  pretty 
china  set  arranged,  the  biscuit  came  smok- 
ing from  the  oven,  and  all  was  ready  for 
tea.  Then  the  large  dinner  bell  was  rung, 
and  the  children  came  crowding  into  the 
yard,  their  cheeks  glowing,  and  their  eyes 
beaming  with  joy,  and  stood  around  at  a 
respectful  distance. 

They  were  then  seated  at  the  table,  the 
girls  on  the  right  and  the  boys  on  the  left 
of  Mrs.  Mardey,  who  was  seated  at  the 
head.  Before  her  were  two  huge  pitchei*s. 
One  was  full  of  fresh  sweet  milk,  the  other 
of  clear,  sparkling  water.     It  needed  no 


36  VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

ice  to  make  it  co@l,  for  it  had  just  come 
from  the  old  well  in  the  "  moss-covered 
bucket."  Henry  sat  at  the  foot  of  the  ta- 
ble, opposite  his  sister. 

A  pleasant  sight  it  was  to  see  that  com- 
pany of  children  reverently  bow  their 
heads  and  fold  their  hands,  as  the  Divine 
blessing  was  asked.  O,  that  happy  child- 
hood might  never  feel  the  polluting  in- 
fluence of  sin ! 

The  sun  was  still  high  in  the  west,  for 
the  days  are  long  in  June,  as  the  children 
arose  from  the  table  and  returned  to  their 
sports.  What  sh-ould  they  do  ?  Many 
games  were  proposed,  but  each  had  been 
played  in  turn,  and  was  therefore  aban- 
doned. But  what  should  they  do  ?  Wil- 
liam has  .sogiething  to  suggest.  "Yes, 
that's  just  the  thing;  capital!"  is 
shouted  by  all ;  and  away  he  ran  to  ask 
Henry. 

"  Would  Uncle  Henry  please  tell  them 
a  story  ;  or  talk  to  them  ;  ov  preach  them 
a  little  sermon  f  The  boys  all  wanted 
him  to  do  so,  and  so  did  the  girls.  AVould 
he?" 


THE   PARTY.  37 

"  Yes ;  Uncle  Henry  would  be  glad  to, 
if  they  desired  it." 

Such  was  the  question,  and  such  the 
answer,  as  the  two  boys  returned  from 
their  mission.  And  then  another  "  Hur- 
ra!" and  the  joyous  clapping  of  half  a 
score  of  little  girls'  hands,  as  they  bounded 
away  to  the  Old  Elm,  beneath  which  Uncle 
Henry  was  still  seated,  told  how  heartily 
they  entered  into  the  plan. 

The  "Old  Elm,"  so  often  referred  to, 
was  indeed  a  noble  tree.  Its  ample  trunk 
had  braved  the  frosts  of  many  winters,  and 
its  wide-spreading  branches,  drooping  like 
the  weeping  willow,  had  been  swayed  by 
the  breathings  of  a  imndred  springs. 

The  year  before,  the  young  man  who 
had  worked  for  Mr,  Manley  had  made  a 
summer-house  up  among  the  branches, 
capable  of  holding  from  twelve  to  twenty 
persons.  It  was  well  protected  on  all 
sides  by  a  firm  railing.*  But  Willie's 
father,  fearing  that  the  children  might 
meet  with  some  accident,  should  he  per- 
mit ilieni  to  have  free  access  to  this  place, 

^  See  Frontispiece. 
3 


38  VOICES  FKOM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

had  removed  the  steps  leading  to  it,  and 
they  were  now  standing  in  the  wood- 
house. 

These  Uncle  Henry  had  observed,  and 
the  thought  now  occurred  to  him,  that  the 
old  tree  would  be  a  most  charming  place 
for  their  meeting.  He  therefore  named  it 
to  his  sister,  and  she  readily  approved  his 
plan. 

Henry  brought  out  the  steps  from 
the  wood-house,  and  placed  them  firmly 
against  the  tree.  Then  he  took  a  broom, 
and  went  up  to  see  that  all  was  safe,  and 
to  sweep  out  the  old  dried  leaves  and  dust 
which  had  gathered  there  during  the  past 
months.  The  children  were  then  handed 
up,  and  what  a  happy  company  they 
were!  How  funny  it  seemed  to  be  up 
there  among  the  branches,  all  seated 
around  on  the  four  seats  of  their  little 
platform,  with  Henry  at  their  head !  "  O, 
it  was  beautiful !" 


THE  MANNEK  OF  PRAYER.  39 


CHAPTEE  III. 


YE.' 


"Well,  children,  what  shall  we  talk 
about?"  asked  Henry,  after  all  had  been 
comfortably  seated  and  quiet  was  restored. 

"  Anything  you  please,"  chimed  half  a 
dozen  voices  in  reply. 

"  Well,  then,  let  me  ask  you  a  question, 
and  I  want  you  to  answer  it  by  holding 
up  your  hands:  How  many  of  you  pray 
every  day  ?" 

Nearly  all  the  children  held  up  their 
hands  in  answer  to  this  question.  They 
were  mostly  from  pious  families,  and  had. 
been  taught  to  bow  at  their  mother's 
knee,  and  offer  their  morning  and  even- 
ing prayers. 

"  Do  you  know  what  prayer  is  ?"  again 
asked  the  uncle. 

They  glanced  at  each  other  for  a  few 
moments    in    silence.       Some    of    them 


40  VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

thought  they  could  tell,  but  they  didn't 
exactly  like  to  say  so,  for  fear  they  were 
wrong.  At  last,  little  Ella  Andei-son,  a 
bright-eyed,  rosy-cheeked  girl  of  some 
six  sumraers,  broke  the  silence,  and 
said : 

"Saying,  'Our  Father,'  isn't  it?" 

This  was  her  name  for  the  Lord's  Pray- 
er. Some  of  the  older  children  smiled  at 
this  answer  of  the  little  girl,  but  Mr. 
"Woodman  replied  : 

"Yes,  Ella,  that  is  indeed  a  beautiful 
prayer.  But  do  you  not  think  that  we 
could  repeat  the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  yet 
not  pray  at  all  ?" 

Ella  was  silent.  Henry  looked  at  the 
others,  but  no  one  seemed  disposed  to 
venture  an  answer. 

^  "  Suppose,"  he  continued,  "  any  of  you, 
while  at  school,  should  read  this  prayer 
in  your  morniDg  lesson,  do  you  think  you 
would  pray  then  ?" 

They  didn't  think  they  would ;  but  no 
one  was  able  to  give  tlie  reason  why. 

"  Certain  things,"  resumed  Mr.  Wood- 
man. "  are  necessary  to  constitute  prayer. 


THE   MANNER   OF   PRAYER.  41 

It  is  evident,  even  to  you,  that  every  per- 
son who  repeats  the  words  of  a  prayer, 
does  not  really  pray.  We  may  teach  a 
parrot  or  a  magpie  to  repeat  the  words  of 
a  prayer,  but  would  the  birds,  therefore, 
pray  ?" 

"  ISTo,  sir,"  was  responded  on  all  sides. 

"Why  not?"  asked  Henry. 

"Why,  Mr.  Woodman,  a  bird  carCt 
pray!  how  funny!"  answered  Ella.  All 
tl^e  children  laughed  at  the  idea  of  a  bird's 
])raying.  The  idea  was,  as  Ellen  said,  so 
''''funny  /" 

"  Yet  the  parrot  can  be  taught  to  say 
'  Our  Father,'  Ella ;  why,  then,  does  not 
the  bird  pray  ?" 

Ko  one  could  answer  this  question, 
though. all  were  confident  that  a  parrot 
couldn't  pray. 

"If  you  will  listen  attentively,  I  will 
try  to  explain  the  matter  to  you,"  said 
]\[r.  Woodman. 

Rvery  eye  was  upon  him.  He  had  in- 
troduced the  subject  in  such  a  novel  man- 
ner as  to  interest  them.  Their  curiosity 
had    been   awakened,  and   at   the   same 


42  VOICES   FROM   THE   OLD  ELM. 

time  their  reason  was  called  into  exercise. 
They  were,  therefore,  all  attention. 

"  I  said,"  continued  Mr.  Woodman, 
"  that  certain  things  were  necessary  to 
constitute  prayer.  I  am  going  to  tell  you 
what  some  of  those  things  are  ;  and  I  will 
try  and  make  them  so  plain  that  all  may 
understand.  First  I  will  state  my  propo- 
sitions, and  then  prove  and  illustrate 
them." 

"  What  is  a  proposition^  uncle  ?"  asked 
Willie. 

*'A  proposition  is  something  that  is 
affirmed,  but  which  requires  proof:  as 
when  I  say,  Sin  leads  to  misery.  Such 
an  assertion  we  call  a  proposition.  All 
persons  do  not  believe  that  sin  leads  to 
misery.  We  must,  therefore,  prove  it. 
So,  too,  when  I  say,  '  Vi^rtiious  self-denial 
is  productive  of  happiness^''  I  announce  a 
proposition  which  requires  proof.  There 
are  many  who  do  not  believe  this.  They 
say  with  one  of  old,  '  Eat,  drink,  and  be 
merry.'  They  do  just  what  tliey  desire 
to  do,  and  think  this  is  the  only  way  to 
be  happy.     Do  you  now  understand  what 


THE  MANNER  OF  PRAYER.  43 

I  mean  by  a  proposition?  if  so,  hold  up 
your  hands." 

All  hands  were  immediately  up,  and 
Henry  proceeded : 

"  The  question  which  we  are  now  con- 
sidering is  this:  What  is  real  prayer? 
Or,  in  other  words.  What  is  necessary  in 
order  that  a  person  may  truly  pray  ?  This 
we  call  the  general  question.  To  answer 
this  question  understandingly,  we  must 
examine  it  in  all  its  bearings.  In  every 
prayer  there  are  three  things  to  be  con- 
sidered : 

"1.  The  person  who  prays. 

"  2.  The  person  prayed  to. 

*'  3.  The  thing  prayed  for. 

*'  My  first  proposition,  therefore,  is  this : 

"1.  To  pra/y  truly  we  must  feel  our 
need  of  assistance. 

"The  very  idea  of  prayer  is  to  ask  a 
favor.  When  we  pray  we  desire  some- 
thing which  we  do  not  now  possess,  do 
wc  not  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  children. 

"But  can  we  desire  a  thing  unless  we 
feel  our  need  of  it?" 


44  VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

"  'No,  sir,"  was  replied  by  a  few.  Oth- 
ers, however,  did  not  feel  quite  satisfied 
with  this  answer.  Eobert  Preston  in  par- 
ticular, a  boy  about  Willie's  age,  had 
something  to  say. 

"Well,  Eobert,  what  is  it?"  asked 
Henry  with  an  encouraging  smile.  He 
liked  to  have  the  children  ask  questions; 
he  could  then  tell  just  what  they  w'ere 
thinking  about. 

"I  was  thinking,  Mr.  Woodman,"  re- 
plied the  boy,  "that  men  do  sometimes 
desire  what  they  do  not  need.^^ 

"  Can  you  mention  an  instance,  Eobert?" 
asked  Uncle  Henry. 

"  Yes,  sir;  I  heard  father  reading  in  the 
papers  yesterday,  about  a  man  in  a  large 
city,  who  had  been  a  street-beggar  for 
many  years.  Everybody  thought  he  was 
extremel}^  poor,  because  he  dressed  in 
such  dirty,  ragged  garments,  and  appeared 
so  miserable,  and  out  of  pity  they  gave 
him  money.  But  the  paper  stated  that 
he  had  recently  died,  and  when  his  little 
garret  was  searched,  large  sums  of  gold 
and  silver  were  found  hidden  away  in  old 


THE   MANNER  OF   PRAYER.  45 

shoes  and  boxes.  Indeed,  he  was  quite  a 
rich  man,  and  might  have  lived  like  a 
gentleman.  Did  he  desire  money  because 
he  needed  it,  Mr.  Woodman  ?" 

"  In  one  sense  he  did,  and  in  another 
he  did  not.  True,  he  did  not  need  it 
to  make  him  cornfortable.  But  why 
did  the  people  give  him  focnl  and  mon- 
ey?" 

"  Because  they  thought  he  was  poor," 
replied  Robert. 

"  Certainly.  Had  they  not  believed 
this  they  would  not  have  listened  to  him. 
Even  in  this  case,  then,  necessity  was  the 
apparent  foundation  of  his  prayers  for 
assistance. 

"But,  children,  did  not. this  poor  man 
need  money  to  make  him  happy  V^ 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  a  chorus  of 
voices. 

"  He  thought  he  did,"  replied  Robert 
after  tlie  others  had  responded. 

"True,  Robert,"  replied  Henry,  "and 
very  wisely  answered  too.  He  thought 
he  could  not  be  happy  unless  he  was  dayly 
increasing  his  store;  and  lie  therefore  con- 


46  VOICES  FKOM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

tinned  to  beg  long  after  all  his  real  wants 
had  been  supplied. 

"  I  believe  it  is  a  principle,  which  is 
generally  acknowledged  as  correct,  that 
we  cannot  desire  what  we  do  not  wish  to 
possess,  and  we  must  think  we  need  the 
thing,  or  we  shall  not  desire  it.  Should  I 
go  out  in  a  (?51d  winter  day,  I  should  wish 
for  an  overcoat.  But  suppose  the  day 
was  warm,  should  I  desire  it  then  ?" 

"  Xo,  sir." 

"Why  not?" 

"Yon  would  be  warm  enough  without 
it,"  answered  Charles. 

"  True,  Charles,  I  should  have  no  desire 
for  such  a  garment  in  August,  because  I 
should  feel  no  need  of  it,  but  I  should  be 
very  glad  of  it  in  January." 

"  But,  sir,"  said  Susan  Perkins,  a  little 
girl  of  eleven,  "  I  sometimes  desire  thing-s 
that  I  do  not  need." 

"Ah,  Susie,  do  you  remember  an  in- 
stance ?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  The  other  evening  at  tea  I 
wanted  another  piece  of  cake.  Mother 
thought  I  had  already  eaten  enough,  ancj 


THE   MANNER  OF   PRAYER.  47 

she  said  I  did  not  need  it.  I  knew  just  as 
well  as  she  did  that  I  didn't  need  it,  for  I 
had  eaten  a  very  hearty  supper,  but  still 
I  desired  the  cake,  and  almost  cried  be- 
cause mother  refused  my  request." 

"You  did  not  need  it  to  satisfy  your 
hunger^  did  you  ?" 

"  ISTo,  sir." 

"  But  did  you  not  need  the  cake  to  sat- 
isfy your  taste^  your  love  for  sweet 
things  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,  I  suppose  I  did." 

"Should  you  have  desired  it  if  it  had 
been  bitter  ?" 

"No,  indeed.  I  loved  it  because  it 
Avas  so  sweet  and  nice." 

"  And  because  you  could  not  get  it  your 
■^aste  was  unsatisfied  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Your  necessity,  then,  arose  from  a  dif- 
ferent cause.  And  the  same  is  true  in 
regard  to  many  things  that  we  desire. 
Charles  and  Willie  desired  to  have  you 
come  and  spend  this  afternoon  with  them, 
because  they  thought  they  needed  your 
company  to  make  them  happy;  and  you 


48  VOICES  FROM   THE   OLD   ELM. 

wished  to  come  because  joii  thought  yon 
needed  the  visit  to  make  you  happy. 
Then  you  all  desired  to  have  your  tea  out 
nnder  the  Old  Elm.  The  biscuit,  and  tarts, 
and  pies  would  have  tasted  just  as  nice  in 
the  house  as  here,  but  you  thought  you 
needed  the  jyleasure  of  a  supper  in  the 
front  yard  to  make  you  happy,  and  so 
Willie  made  the  request. 

"Thus  you  see  that  in  all  common 
matters,  our  desires  spring  from  our 
fancied  or  real  wants.  If  we  need  a  thing 
to  make  us  either  comfortable 'or  happy, 
we  can  desire  it,  otherwise  not. 

"So,  too,  in  regard  to  spiritual  things. 
Unless  we  feel  our  need  of  God's  help, 
we  shall  not  seek  it ;  and  unless  we  feel 
our  need  of  salvation,  we  shall  not  ask  to 
be  saved.  Let  me  relate  a  little  incident 
to  illustrate  this  point. 

"During  my  last  year  in  college,  a  young 
man  entered  the  freshman  class.  He  was 
wild  and  gay.  He  seemed  to  love  pleas- 
ure better  than  anything  else.  Card  play- 
ing, visiting,  attending  parties,  and  danc- 
ing were  his  chief  delight.     These,  the 


THE  MANNER  OF  PRAYER.  49 

rules  of  the  college  forbid ;  but  still  he 
found  means  to  deceive  the  faculty  and 
enjoy  his  pleasures. 

"  Christians  admonished  and  exhorted 
him  to  turn  from  so  dangerous  a  course. 
They  pointed  out  the  extreme  folly  and 
sin  of  such  a  life.  He  was  deceiving  his 
best  friends,  his  loving  parents,  and  con- 
fiding teachers.  They  pointed  him  to  the 
safer  and  happier  way,  the  way  of  obe- 
dience to  God.  He  heard  his  class-mates 
tell  of  the  superior  joys  of  religion,  heard 
their  prayers,  and  their  exhortations. 
But  he  did  not  feel  the  need  of  religion. 
In  vigorous  health,  with  plenty  of  money 
at  his  command,  and  surrounded  by  friends 
as  light-hearted  and  gay  as  himself,  he  saw 
no  necessity  for  changing  his  course.  He 
was  well  enough  as  he  was,  he  thought. 

"Thus  months  passed.  At  length  he 
was  taken  sick.  The  doctor  pronounced 
his  disease  typhoid  fever.  He  grew  rap- 
idly worse,  and  was  told  that  he  must  die. 
I  had  often  labored  with  him,  and  urged 
him  to  seek  Christ ;  but  he  had  ever  been 
deaf  to  my  exhortations. 


50  VOICES   FROM   THE   OLD  ELM. 

"One  night,  about  twelve,  a  friend 
came  in  haste,  requesting  me  to  go  im- 
mediately to  the  sick  man's  room,  as  he 
was  desirous  of  seeing  me.  I  went,  and 
found  him  in  dreadful  agony  of  mind. 
I  could  hear  him  wildly  praying,  even 
before  I  reached  his  door.  I  had  no  sooner 
entered  than  he  cried  out  in  a  voice  of  in- 
tense anguish : 

'"Henry,  I  am  lost!  O  that  I  had 
listened  to  you!  I  slighted  your  warn- 
ings while  in  health,  and  now  I  am  dying 
without  hope  !     Lost!  lost!  lost!' 

"  Dreadful,  indeed,  was  the  anguish  of 
that  dying  sinner.  Wildly  and  passion- 
ately did  he  pray.  He  felt  his  need  of 
pardon.  All  the  pleasures  he  had  enjoy- 
ed could  now  afford  him  no  consolation. 

"  '  O,  Henry,  pray  for  me  !  Pray  ! 
pray  !'  was  his  agonizing  cry. 

"I  knelt  by  his  bedside  and  tried  to 
pray;  but  even  while  thus  engaged,  I 
could  hear  the  poor  ruined  sinner  cry- 
ing, in  a  suppressed  voice,  'Lost!  lost! 
lost !' 

"I  left  him  as  the  morning  was  break- 


THE  MANNER  OF  PRAYER.  51 

ing,  still  wildly  praying.  That  day  he 
died,  died  without  hope. 

"This  young  man  did  not  desire  re- 
ligion, until  he  felt  that  he  was  lost  with- 
out it.  Then  he  cried  unto  God.  But 
did  he  not  need  it  just  as  much  while  in 
health  as  when  he  became  sick?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  the  children  replied. 

"Yery  true,  my  young  friends.  But 
still  lie  would  not  acknowledge  this  neces- 
sity. Had  he  considered  the  subject,  he 
would  have  felt  his  need  of  Christ. 

"Such  was  also  the  case  with  Paul. 
He  was  a  proud,  self-willed  Pharisee. 
When  that  good  man,  Stephen,  was  being 
stoned  to  death,  he  stood  and  looked 
coldly  on.  He  had  no  words  of  comfort 
for  the  poor  suffering  Christian;  but  he 
urged  on  the  cruel  men  who  were  taking 
his  innocent  life.  But  when  God  struck 
liim  down  at  noonday,  while  on  his  way 
to  Damascus  to  persecute  the  Christians 
there,  and  covered  the  proud  man's  eyes 
with  scales,  so  that  he  groped  his  way  in 
the  darkness  for  three  whole  days,  then 
ho  felt  his  need  of  Divine   hel[) ;    and 


52  VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

it  was  said  of  him,  '  Behold^  he  jpray- 
ethP 

''The  point  that  we  are  now  consider- 
ing is  a  very  important  one.  You  have 
seen,  dear  children,  a  babe  in  its  mother's 
arms.  How  helpless  the  infant  lies. 
Should  the  mother  withdraw  her  loving 
arms,  how  quickly  the  little  one  would 
fall!  Should  she  not  heed  its  wants, 
how  soon  it  would  perish !  What  can  it 
do  for  itself?  What  effort  can  it  make 
to  gain  food,  or  clothing,  or  shelter? 
None  whatever.     It  is  truly  helpless. 

"  But  we  are  still  more  dependent  upon 
our  heavenly  Father,  than  is  that  little 
infant  upon  its  mother.  He  gives  us 
the  very  air  we  breathe,  and  the  food 
we  eat.  We  live  because  he  cares  for  us. 
Every  day  we  need  these  common  bless- 
ings. 

"  Then,  too,  we  are  sinners.  We  have 
disobeyed  God.  We  have  refused  to  love 
him  and  serve  him.  AYe  need  pardon, 
and  to  be  washed  in  the  blood  of  Christ. 
If  this  is  not  granted,  we  shall  be  lost  in 
eternity.     To  enter  heaven  we  must  be 


THE  MANNER  OF  PRAYER.  53 

holy.     God  only  can  make  us  so.     How 
much,  then,  do  we  need  to  pray! 

"But,  children,  to  pray  acceptably,  we 
must  have  something  besides  a  sense  of 
our  need  of  help.  Our  next  proposition, 
then,  is  this : 

"2.  To  pray  acceptably,  we  tnust  have 
confidence  in  God. 

"If  we  do  not  believe  that  God  is  both 
able  and  willing  to  help  us,  we  shall  not 
be  likely  to  ask  him.  The  poor  beggar 
does  not  ask  alms  of  those  who  are  poor 
as  himself,  for  he  has  no  confidence  in 
their  ability  to  assist  him.  Neither  does 
he  ask  of  those  who  have  often  refused  to 
give,  and  have  turned  from  him  with 
coldness  and  disgust;  for  he  cannot 
have  faith  in  their  willingness  to  help 
him. 

"To  pray  acceptably,  we  must  have 
confidence  in  the  ability  of  our  heavenly 
Father  to  hear  and  answer  our  prayers. 
If  God  were  not  able  to  grant  our  requests, 
would  it  be  of  any  use  for  us  to  make 
them?" 

"  No,  sir,"  answered  the  children. 
4 


54  VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

"And  is  he  able?" 

"Yes,  sir/' 

"What  makes  you  think  so?" 

To  this  question  there  was  no  im- 
mediate response.  At  length,  Willie 
ventured  to  suggest,  rather  inquiringly: 

"God  is  very  great,  is  he  not,  uncle?" 

"Yes,  Willie,  God  is  infinitely  great. 
His  2yower  h  mfimte.  Nothing,  therefore, 
is  too  great  for  him  to  do.  His  wisdom  is 
infinite.  He  knows,  therefore,  in  every 
case,  just  what  ought  to  be  done.  Men 
are  sometimes  in  doubt ;  but  God  never  is. 
lie  also  fills  all  space,  and  is  e'^erywhert 
jprese7it.  Hence  he  is  always  near  us  to 
hear  and  answer  our  prayei-s.  It  matters 
not,  dear  children,  where  we  are,  or  how 
we  are  situated,  God  can  hear  us,  and  he 
can  help  us. 

"But  we  should  not  only  have  confi- 
dence in  the  ability  of  our  heavenly 
Father,  but  in  his  willingness,  likewise, 
to  grant  us  the  things  we  pray  for.  Can 
you  remember  any  texts  of  Scripture  to* 
prove  that  God  is  willing  to  he  ^^  prayer  J 
If  so,  please  raise  your  hands." 


THE   MANNER   OF   PRAYER.  55 

A  few  hands  were  up  immediately. 
Others  were  raised  slowly,  showing  that 
there  was  some  doubt  in  the  mind 
in  regard  to  the  fitness  of  the  texts 
thought  of. 

"  AVell,  E"athan,  we  will  hear  your 
proof  text,"  said  Mr,  Woodman,  address- 
ing a  modest  little  fellow  who  sat  by  the 
side  of  Charles.  His  was  the  first  hand 
raised,  and  Henry,  therefore,  called  upon 
him  first. 

"  '  Whatsoever  ye  shall  ask  in  my  name, 
that  will  I  do,  that  the  Father  may  be 
glorified  in  the  Son,' "  replied  ^N'athan. 

"  A  very  precious  promise,  and  directly 
to  the  point.  Now,  Ella,  we  will  hear 
yours." 

"  '  Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given  you,' "  re- 
plied the  little  girl.  How  sweetly  sound- 
ed this  precious  promise  from  the  lips  of 
the  innocent  child.  Henry  felt  its  power, 
and  his  heart  responded  to  its  truth. 

"  Never  forget  that  promise,  dear  Ella ; 
but  in  every  time  of  trial  or  of  doubt,  re- 
member it  is  written,  ''Ask^  and  it  shall  he 
given  you.''    No  matter  what  the  blessing 


56         VOICES  FEOM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

is  which  you  need,  it  is  included  in  the 
promise.  Go  to  your  Father  in  heaven, 
'ask,'  and  you  shall  'receive.'" 

The  following  texts,  among  many  oth- 
ers, were  also  given  by  the  children : 

"  Hitherto  have  ye  asked  nothing  in  my 
name  :  ask,  and  ye  shall  receive,  that  your 
joy  may  be  full." 

"If  any  of  you  lack  wisdom,  let  him 
ask  of  God,  that  giveth  to  all  men  lib- 
erally, and  upbraideth  not;  and  it  shall 
be  given  him." 

"  Whatsoever  we  ask  we  receive  of  him, 
because  we  keep  his  commandments,  and 
do  those  things  which  are  pleasing  in  his 
sight." 

"And  this  is  the  confidence  that  we  have 
in  him,  that,  if  we  ask  anything  according 
to  his  will,  he  heareth  us  :  and  we  know 
that  we  have  the  petitions  that  we  desired 
of  him." 

"  Such,  dear  children,"  continued  Hen- 
ry, "  are  some  of  the  many  promises  which 
prove  the  willingness  of  God  to  hear 
prayer.  And  then,  too,  we  have  the  fact 
that  he  always  has  heard  and  answered 


THE   MANNER  OF   PRAYER.  57 

the  prayers  of  his  children.  The  Lord 
heard  Moses  when  he  prayed  for  the  re- 
bellious Israelites.  He  hearkened  also  at 
the  Red  Sea,  and  at  the  rock  in  the 
wilderness,  and  on  the  banks  of  Jordan. 
He  heard,  too,  the  prayer  of  David,  and 
forgave  his  great  sin,  and  made  him  sing 
for  joy.  ^  Daniel  prayed  to  God,  while  in 
the  lions'  den,  and  God  heard  him,  and 
sent  one  of  his  bright  angels  to  shut  the 
lions'  mouths,  so  that  they  could  not  harm 
Daniel.  Stephen  prayed  while  the  wick- 
ed Je^s  were  stoning  him  to  death,  and 
God  opened  the  windows  of  heaven  and 
let  the  dying  martyr  look  in  upon  the 
glory ;  and  Stephen  was  so  overcome  with 
the  beauty  of  his  heavenly  home,  that,  in 
the  triumphs  of  his  soul,  he  almost  forgot 
the  pains  of  death  ! 

"Yes,  my  young  friends,  God  hears 
prayer.  Nothing  is  truer  than  this. 
When,  therefore,  you  are  in  trouble,  go 
and  pray  to  him. 

"  But  there  is  one  other  thing  to  attend 
to,  if  we  would  so  pray  as  to  receive  an 
answer  to  our  prayers. 


58  VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

"3.  We  must  pray  for  those  things 
which  are  according  to  his  will. 

"  We  read  in  1  John  v,  4 :  '  And  this 
is  the  confidence  that  we  have  iD  him, 
that,  if  we  ask  anything  according  to  his 
will.,  he  heareth  ns.'  God  would  not  hear 
me  if  I  should  pray  for  a  fortune,  that  I 
might  spend  it  in  pleasure  and  folly. 
This  would  not  be  '  according  to  his  will.' 
But  it'  is  according  to  the  will  of  God  that 
our  sins  should  be  pardoned,  and  our  hearts 
cleansed  from  all  sin.  He  wills,  also,  that 
we  should  have  strength  to  resist  tempta- 
tion, and  grace  to  overcome  evil  with  good. 

"  Every  one  of  these  boys  and  girls  may 
have  a  gentle  spirit,  and  be  happy  all  the 
day  long.  And  not  only  so,  but  you  may 
make  others  happy  around  you.  You 
may  become  just  Hke  a  sunbeam,  cheer- 
ing every  dark  place,  and  gladdening 
every  sorrowing  heart.  This  is  God's 
will. 

"Now,  boys,  let  us  'sum  up  the  argu- 
ment,' as  the  lawyers  say." 

"What  does  that  mean,  Mr.  Wood- 
man ?"  asked  Robert. 


THE   MANNER  OF   PRAYER.  69 

"To  sum  up  the  argument  is  to  repeat 
the  propositions,  with  their  proofs,  in  the 
fewest  words  possible;  so  that  we  may 
have  the  wliole  subject  directly  before 
the  mind.  Will  you  tell  me,  Willie,  what 
the  main  question  is?" 

"I  will  try,  Uncle,"  replied  the  boy. 
^*If  I  remember  rightly,  it  is  this:  What 
is  necessary  in  order  that  we  may  pray 
truly?"       "    , 

"Yes,  Willie,  that  is  the  question. 
N-ow,  Robert,  will  you  repeat  the  first 
proposition," 

"Jb  ^ray  truly  we  must  fed  our  need 
of  assistance^''  replied  Robert 

"Very  well.  Nathan,  if  you  please,  3'ou 
may  tell  us  in  as  few  words  as  possible 
what  the  arguments  were  which  we  used 
to  sustain  that  proposition." 

"  I  will  try,  sir,  though  I  fear  I  shall 
not  do  it  very  well.  Is  this  it  ?  To  pray 
is  to  ask  a  favor  :  but  we  shall  not  ask  a 
favor  unless  we  wish  to  possess  it,  and  we 
shall  not  wish  to  possess  it  unless  w^e  feel 
in  some  way  our  need  of  it," 

"Very  finely  done,  Nathan.     You  have 


60  VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

not  attended  so  closely  to  what  has  been 
said  for  nothing,  I  perceive.  Charles,  you 
may  give  the  second  proposition." 

'^To^ray  acceptcMy  we  must  have  con- 
fidence in  God^''  replied  the  boy. 

"Eight;  and  now  for  the  argument." 

"I think,"  replied  Charles,  "it  consisted 
of  two  parts : 

"1.  Confidence  in  the  ability  of  God. 
Unless  we  believed  he  was  able  to  grant 
our  desires,  we  should  not  call  upon  him. 
To  show  this  ability,  it  was  said  that  God 
had  infinite  power^  infinite  wisdom,  and 
wa^  everywhere  present.  Thus  he  could 
do  all  things,  and  Tcnew  all  that  needed 
to  be  done,  and  was  always  present  to 
help. 

"2.  Confidence  in  the  willingness  of 
God.  That  he  was  willing  to  hear  our 
prayers  was  shown  from  two  sources — the 
Bible,  and  Christian  experience  in  all 
ages  of  the  Church." 

"Right,  Charles,  and  done  like  a  law- 
yer. But  I  must  not  let  the  boys  do  all 
the  thinking  for  us.  Jennie,  you  are  a 
little   girl,   but   your   bright   eyes  have 


THE   MANNER  OF  PRAYER.  61 

seemed  to  flash  through  all  that  has  been 
said ;  and  I  think  you  must  have  under- 
stood it.  Can  you  repeat  the  third  prop- 
osition ?" 

Jennie  blushed,  and  wished  people 
would  not  say  so  much  about  her  eyes. 
How  could  she  help  it,  if  her  eyes  were 
bright !  She  kept  these  thoughts  to  her- 
self, however,  and  replied  to  Henry's 
question : 

"We  must  pray  according  to  the  will 
of  God.     Is  that  it,  uncle  ?" 

"  Yes,  Jennie ;  and  how  did  we  prove 
it,  ISTellie  ?"  he  asked  of  "  sweet  ISTellie 
Ely,"  Jennie's  most  intimate  playmate. 

"  From  the  Bible,  sir,"  replied  the 
girl. 

"  Yes ;  but  do  you  recollect  the  pas- 
sage?" 

"  It  was  1  John  v,  14 ;  but  I  have  for- 
gotten the  exact  words." 

"Never  mind.  You  may  all  find  them 
in  your  Testaments  when  you  return  home. 
But  it  is  almost  sunset,  and  we  must  not 
talk  longer  at  this  time." 

Henry  had  just  at  that  moment  noticed 


62  VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

the  beautiful  sunset.  The  distant  hills 
were  glowing  in  the  golden  rays  of  the 
sun,  which  rested  upon  their  tops  like 
crowns  of  diamonds.  The  scene  filled 
his  soul  with  gladness;  for  he  saw  in  it 
the  smile  of  his  Father  in  heaven. 

The  children  earnestly  w^hispered  to- 
gether for  a  few  moments.  "  Would  he 
do  it?"  was  asked.  Willie  thought  he 
would,  Charles  Tcnew  he  would :  he 
was  ''^so  goocV  Who  should  ask  him? 
Why  Robert,  to  be  sure;  and  all  were 
still  as  Robert  arose  to  speak : 

"  Mr.  Woodman,  the  children  have 
asked  me  to  thank  you  for  your  kindness 
this  afternoon.  We  have  all  been  very 
happy.  We  never  understood  before,  so 
well  as  we  now  do,  how  we  ought  to  pray, 
so  as  to  be  heard  and  answered.  But  we 
want  to  have  you  tell  us  more  about  this 
matter.  We  should  be  very  happy  if 
you  would  have  another  meeting  up  here 
in  the  'Old  Elm.'  We  will  all  try  to 
come.  Will  you,  Mr.  Woodman?"  and 
Robert  resumed  his  seat. 

^'I,   too,   have   been   very  happy   this 


THE   MANNER  OF  PRAYER.  68 

afternoon,''  replied  Henry.  "I  do  not 
think  I  shall  ever  forget  this  hour,  or  this 
meeting  in  the  Old  Elm ;  and  I  shall  be 
very  happy  to  meet  you  not  only  once 
more,  but  many  times,  in  this  beautiful 
place.  I  would  like  to  have  a  good  many 
talks  with  you.  I  want  you  all  to  be 
good  children,  not  only  kind  and  obedient 
to  your  parents,  and  loving  and  obliging 
to  each  other,  but  Christians  also." 

And  so  it  was  agreed  they  should  meet 
every  Saturday  afternoon,  at  two  o'clock, 
in  the  "  Old  Elm." 

Before  they  left  their  beautiful  seat  in 
the  tree  they  all  knelt  down,  and  Uncle 
Henry  prayed.  How  earnestly  he  sup- 
plicated at  the  "  mercy-seat"  for  those 
precious  lambs  of  the  fold !  He  felt  all 
that  he  had  taught  them  of  the  nature  of 
prayer,  and  poured  out  his  soul  as  one 
dependent  upon  his  heavenly  Father.  He 
had  confidence,  too,  in  God,  and  knew 
he  was  both  able  and  willing  to  keep  that 
youthful  company  from  the  snares  and 
pit-falls  of  sin.  And  surely  this  was  ac- 
cording to  the  Divine  will.     O,  how  easy 


64  VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

to  have  faith  in  behalf  of  artless  child- 
hood! 

They  descended  from  the  tree ;  and  as 
the  children  left  for  home,  they  thought 
they  had  never  passed  an  afternoon  so 
pleasantly ,^r  seen  such  a  "nice  man"  as 
Mr.  Woodma^. 


MOUNT    PLEASANT.  65 


CHAPTER  TV. 

MOUNT    PLEASANT. 

About  two  miles  from  Rose  Cottage 
was  a  momitain,  which  was  known  in 
that  region  as  Mount  Pleasant.  It  was 
a  beautiful  elevation  and  a  favorite  resort, 
especially  for  all  such  strangers  as  came 
from  the  less  hilly  portions  of  the  country. 

The  sides  of  this  mountain  were  covered 
with  a  thick  growth  of  forest-trees.  Tall 
maples  with  their  giant  trunks,  beeches, 
birches  of  various  kinds,  with  the  nu- 
fnerous  family  of  evergreens,  among 
which  the  hemlock  and  spruce  were 
chief  These,  and  various  others,  all 
mingled  as  if  by  a  skillful  hand,  pre- 
sented a  picture  of  great  beauty.  And 
especially  when  the  early  frost  of  autumn 
came  and  touched  the  foliage  with  its 
magic  fingers,  these  forests  wore  a  most 
enchanting  aspect.  Indeed,  one  might 
almost  fancy  the  old  mountain  some  huge 


66  VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

giant,  dressed  in  robes  d^^ed  in  the  gor- 
geoiis  s]3lendors  of  the  setting  sun.  And 
the  cap  of  white  granite,  intei"spersed 
with  clear  specimens  of  mica,  which 
crowned  the  mountain's  top,  sparkhng 
and  flashing  in  the  oblique  rays  of  the 
rising  and  setting  sun,  like  the  diamond 
coronet  of  some  old  monarch,  certainly 
did  not  do  much  toward  dispelling  this 
illusion.  Hence  the  name  Mount  Pleas- 
ant. 

Another  curious  feature  of  this  mount- 
ain was,  that  almost  on  its  very  top  was 
a  beautiful  pond.  It  was  of  circular  form, 
some  twenty-five  rods  in  diameter,  with 
steep,  rough  banks;  and  so  deep  were 
its  waters,  that  some  simple  people  fully 
believed  them  bottomless.  Protected  on 
one  side  by  the  overhanging  crown  of 
granite,  which  rested  upon  the  brow  of 
the  mounfain  king,  and  on  all  others  by 
steep  banks  and  overhanging  trees,  its 
placid  bosom  was  seldom  disturbed  by 
the  rude  winds  which  went  sweeping 
past. 

Where    the    inlet    to    this    pond    was. 


MOUNT  PLEASANT.  67 

none  knew ;  and  how  it  came  there  few 
could  guess.  And  yet  it  was  always 
full ;  and  out  of  a  narrow  fissure,  which 
seemed  worn  in  the  solid  rock,  issued  a 
stream  of  pure,  cold  water,  which  needed 
no  ice,  even  in  the  hottest  days  of  sum- 
mer, to  make  it  cool ;  and  away  down  the 
mountain  side  it  hurried,  leaping  and 
dashing  from  rock  to  rock,  sinfyin<x  on  its 
way,  and  dancing  to  its  own  wild  music, 
till  it  reached  the  plains  below. 

The  pond  and  stream  were  plentifully 
supplied  with  a  peculiar  kind  of  trout, 
whose  delicious  flavor  caused  them  to  be 
prized  as  a  choice  dish.  It  was  for  the 
double  purpose  of  angling  for  these  fish, 
and  obtaining  a  view  of  the  surrounding 
country  from  the  mountain's  top,  that 
Uncle  Henry  and  the  boys  planned  an 
excursion  for  the  coming  Wednesday. 

Wednesday  morning  came,  and  they 
were  up  long  before  the  sun  had  risen  ; 
and  just  as  his  first  beams  were  kissing 
the  mountain's  brow  they  started  on  their 
way. 

A  brisk  walk  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour 


G8  VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

brought  them  to  the  mountain's  base. 
Here  tliej  prepared  their  fishing  tackle; 
and,  finding  the  stream,  commenced  their 
ascent.  It  was  some  time  before  they 
caught  any  fish,  as  this  part  of  the  stream 
was  constantly  visited  by  the  boys  in  the 
neighborhood,  who,  if  they  did  not  catch 
many  fish,  succeeded  fully  in  frighten- 
ing them  back  toward  their  mountain 
home. 

It  was  a  charming  morning.  The  sun  was 
cloudless ;  and  his  rays,  as  they  came  strug- 
gling through  the  thick  foliage  which  cov- 
ered the  trees,  fell  upon  the  dancing  stream 
like  a  shower  of  molten  gold.  All  around 
was  profound  silence,  broken  only  by  the 
distant  hum  of  the  busy  vale  below,  the 
lowing  of  the  herds,  and  the  occasional 
chattering  of  a  squirrel  as  he  nibbled  the 
cones  of  some  tall  hemlock. 

They  had  a  pleasant  time  in  following 
up  the  stream  to  its  source,  and  caught  a 
fine  string  of  fish  before  they  reached  the 
pond.  Their  beautiful  sides,  covered  with 
bright  spots,  glistened  like  pieces  of 
polished   silver    as   Uncle    Henry  laved 


MOUNT  PLEASANT.  69 

them  in  the  cool  water  of  the  mountain 
lake. 

Leaving  their  fish  here,  the  party  pro- 
ceeded immediately  to  the  mountain's 
top. 

Neither  Henry  nor  Charles  had  ever 
been  there  before,  and  the  scene  was 
therefore  entirely  new  to  them.  It  was 
indeed  beautiful.  For  miles  away  no  ob- 
ject obstructed  their  view.  On  every 
side  tlie  country  was  smiling  with  culti- 
vated fields,  green  pastures,  groves  and 
woodlands,  dressed  in  the  rich,  heavy  gar- 
ments of  a  June  foliage,  while  ponds,  scat- 
tered here  and  there,  and  rivulets,  brooks, 
and  larger  streams,  winding  through  the 
green  fields  and  across  the  meadows,  like 
threads  of  silver,  gave  an  indescribable 
charm  to  the  landscape. 

Many  villages,  too,  were  in  sight ;  nest- 
ling down  in  the  valleys,  or  resting  like 
crowns  upon  the  hills,  with  their  rows  of 
white  houses  with  green  blinds,  that  uni- 
versal Yankee  fashion,  and  the  spires  of 
their  neat  cliurches  pointing  to  heaven. 
Farm-houses  and  solitarv  cottairos  dotted 


70  VOICES   FKOM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

the  picture  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach. 
Groups  of  men  were  seen  laboring  in  the 
fields.  The  flocks  and  herds,  satisfied  with 
the  abundant  herbage,  were  now  gathered 
beneath  the  shade  of  the  scattered  trees 
and  rocks.  Altogether  it  was  a  beautiful 
landscape. 

It  was  some  time  before  Willie  could 
be  made  to  believe  that  the  little  cottage, 
almost  at  the  very  foot  of  the  mountainyand 
which  appeared  to  him  scarcely  larger 
than  a  good  sized  bird-house  <iould  be  his 
own  home.  The  "Old  Elm'^  seemed 
about  as  lai'ge  as  a  very  small  apple- 
tree. 

Just  then  a  little  white-looking  object 
came  creeping  out.  at  the  front  door  of  the 
little  house,  and  seemed  to  crawl  at  a 
very  slow  pace  down  toward  the  narrow 
road.  Willie  and  Charles  thought  it  must 
be  Bell,  their  pet  white  kitten.  Uncle 
Henry  said  it  was  probably  Jennie;  but 
the  boys  laughed  right  heartily  at  the  idea 
that  Jennie  should  be  such  a  "  wee  bit " 
of  a  thing  as  that.  "Why,  it  was  not 
larger  than  Jennie's  doll !" 


MOUNT  PLEASANT.  71 

"And  so,  boys,  you  do  not  believe  that 
is  Jennie,  do  you?"  said  Mr;  Woodman. 

"  No,  indeed,  uncle,  we  do  not !  Sister 
is  almost  as  tall  as  I  am,"  replied  "Willie. 

"  Well,  we  will  see ;"  and  Mr.  Wood- 
man took  from  his  pocket  a  pocket  spy- 
glass, and  adjusted  it  to  his  eye.  After 
directing  it  toward  the  cottage  for  a  mo- 
ment, he  said : 

"  Willie,  please  come  here,  and  tell  me 
how  much  that  little  white  speck,  standing 
there  by  the  front  gate,  looks  like  Kitty 
Bell." 

Willie  and  Charles  both  came  to  Mr. 
Woodman,  who  held  the  instrument  still 
directed  at  the  white  object.  Willie  put 
his  eye  to  the  little  glass  in  the  smaller 
end.  Scarcely  had  he  done  so  when  he 
exclaimed, 

"  Why,  it  is  Jennie,  as  sure  as  we  are 
here.  There  she  is,  leaning  over  the  gate, 
looking  right  up  here  at  us.  Do  you  think 
she  sees  us,  uncle  ?"     * 

"I  hardly  think  she  does,  Willie,"  re- 
plied Uncle  Ilenr}',  as  the  boy  left  his 
place  to  give  Charles  an  opportunity  to 


72  VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

take  a  look.  "She  might,  perhaps,  if 
we  should  all  stand  up  together,"  he  con- 
tinued. 

Charles  was  as  much  delighted  in  look- 
ing through  the  spy-glass  as  Willie  had 
been. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Woodman,  Jennie  is  right 
here  !  I  declare  I  have  a  good  mind  to 
speak  to  her.     Could  she  hear  me  ?" 

"  I  rather  think  not ;  but  yon  can  try  it 
if  you  wish.  Would  you  speak  through 
the  glass,  Charles  ?"  replied  Uncle  Henry, 
laughing. 

Charles  blushed,  thinking  somehow  he 
had  made  a  very  foolish  blunder,  but 
surely  he  could  not  tell  how.  Did  he  not 
see  his  cousin  right  before  him  as  plainly 
as  he  ever  saw  her  in  his  life  ?  Could  he 
not  almost  see  the  piece  of  cake  she  was 
eating,  and  the  string  of  coral  round  her 
neck?  Could  he  not  almost  count  the 
spots  upon  her  muslin  frock  ;  and  why, 
then,  could  he  not  Speak  to  her  ? 

Little  Charlie  had  never  before  seen  a 
spy-glass,  and  he  did  not  undei*stand  why 
a  person  who  appeared  to  be  only  a  very 


MOUNT   PLEASANT.  78 

few  rods  distant,  could  be  in  reality  more 
than  a  mile  awa  y,  Willie,  too,  was  almost 
as  much  puzzled  as  his  cousin,  and  quite 
as  ignorant  of  the  laws  of  vision. 

It  was  therefore  with  much  real  pleas- 
ure that  the  two  boys  sat  down  by  the 
uncle,  and  heard  him  explain  all  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  instrument.  He  unscrewed 
its  several  parts,  took  out  the  glasses  or 
lenses  as  they  are  called,  and  let  the  boys 
look  at  objects  through  them. 

Then  he  explained  to  them  that  it  was 
not  really  Jennie  which  they  had  seen  while 
looking  thi;pugh  the  spy-glass,  but  only  an 
image  of  her.  Jennie  was  just  as  far  off 
as  ever,  but  by  the  properties  of  the  ob- 
ject glass,  the  rays  of  light  reflected  from 
her  were  brought  to  a  point  in  the  hollow 
tube  of  the  instrument,  forming  there  her 
exact  image.  Then,  by  the  aid  of  the 
other  lens,  or  eye-glass,  these  rays  were 
converged  to  the  eye  of  the  person,  and  he 
saw  this  image. 

And  thus  the  boys  took  their  first  les- 
son in  the  science  of  optics,  away  up  on 
tlte  bald  head  of  Mount  Pleasant.     They 


74  VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

conversed  some  time  longer  about  the 
properties  of  the  lens,  by  the  aid  of  which 
astronomers  have  been  able  to  achieve 
such  wonderful  results ;  and  then,  after 
taking  another  survey  of  the  beautiful 
landscape,  they  started  for  home. 


GOD  "our  father."  75 


CHAPTER  Y. 


Two  o'clock  on  Saturday  afternoon  had 
been  named  as  the  hour  for  their  second 
meeting  in  the  Old  Elm.  Punctual  at  the 
appointed  time,  the  children,  with  smiling 
faces,  came  pouring  into  the  yard. 

Henry  and  the  little  folks  were  all  ready 
to  receive  them.  The  salutations  at  meet- 
ing having  been  passed,  and  the  caps  and 
bonnets  of  the  boys  and  girls  laid  carefully 
away  in  the  little  bed-room  tliat  opened 
out  from  the  cottage  parlor,  they  ascend- 
ed to  their  place  of  meeting  in  the  Old 
Elm. 

All  the  children  who  had  attended  the 
party  the  week  before,  and  were,  there- 
fore, at  the  first  meeting,  were  also  pres- 
ent at  this,  except  little  rosy-cheeked  Ella 
Anderson,  who  had  been  taken  suddenly 
ill  with  a  fever.  A  shade  of  sadness 
spread  over  the  bright  faces  of  the  little 


76  VOICES  FEOM   TnE   OLD   ELM. 

company  as  Robert  announced  the  news, 
for  sweet  little  Ella  was  the  pet  of  the 
whole  neighborhood. 

When  all  were  seated,  and  the  hnni  of 
the  merry  voices  was  hushed,  they  joined 
in  singing  that  beautiful  hymn  commenc- 
ing: 

"God  had  said,  ' Forever bless'd, 
Those  who  seek  me  in  their  youth ;' 

They  shall  find  the  path  of  wisdom, 
And  the  narrow  way  of  truth." 

Then  they  all  kneeled  down, 'and  Mr. 
Woodman  prayed.  When  he  came  to 
mention  little  Ella  in  his  prayer,  and  ask- 
ed God  to  take  care  of  her,  and  to  raise 
her  to  health  again,  if  it  was  his  will  ;-or, 
if  not,  that  he  would  prepare  her  for  his 
holy  presence,  the  children  were  deeply 
affected,  and  tears  sprang  to  many  bright 
eyes. 

They  arose  from  their  knees,  and  every 
eye  was  fixed  upon  Uncle  Henry.  How 
tliose  children  loved  him,  and  yet  many 
of  them  had  seen  him  only  once  before, 
except  at  Church  on  the  Sabbath.     But 


GOD  -'OUR   FATHER."  77 

still  they  loved  liim,  and  they  had  looked 
forward  to  this  hour  with  delight. 

Uncle  Henry  read  this  affection  in  the 
loving  eyes  of  the  expectant  company, 
and  in  the  glow  of  their  beaming  faces. 
He  saw  that  those  buoyant,  plastic  hearts 
were  within  his  power,  and  every  impress 
which  his  influence  was  leaving  upon 
them  would  be  lasting.  How  important, 
then,  that  he  touched  the  delicate  instru- 
ments with  a  skillful  hand.  How  much 
he  needed  divine  grace. 

From  the  conversation  at  the  first  meet- 
ing, he  had  formed  the  purpose  of  making 
the  Lord's  Prayer  the  subject  of  their 
familiar  intercourse  at  every  subsequent 
meeting,  until  he  had  explained  all  its 
princii)les.  He  thought  that  in  this  way 
he  could  introduce  stories  and  anecdotes 
to  illustrate  his  points,  thereby  pleasing 
the  children  and  profiting  them  at  the 
same  time. 

"  Children,"  said  Uncle  Henry,  ''  at  our 
last  meeting  we  conversed  about  prayer. 
How  many  of  you  desire  to  continue  this 
subject?" 


78  VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

All  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

"Thank  you,"  replied  Mr.  Woodman. 
"The  Lord's  Prayer,  as  it  is  called,  is  com- 
posed of  several  parts,  and  I  propose  that 
we  take  up  each  part  separately,  and 
make  it  the  subject  of  conversation  for 
one  meeting.  How  would  you  like 
that?" 

The  children  all  thought  they  should 
like  it  much.  Indeed,  they  were  pretty 
sure  to  be  pleased  with  anything  which 
Henry  proposed. 

"What  is  the  first  part  of  this  prayer, 
children  ?" 

" '  Our  Father  who  art  in  heaven,' " 
they  replied. 

"Well,  then,  this  is  to  be  the  subject 
of  our  present  talk.  Who  is  meant  by 
"  Our  Father  in  heaven  ?" 

"  God,"  answered  all  with  one  voice. 

"And  how  do  you  know  there  is  a 
God  ?  have  you  ever  seen  him  ?" 

"No,  sir,"  was  answered. 

"But  we  have  seen  his  works,"  said 
John  Brown,  a  boy  about  a  year  older 
than  Willie. 


GOD  "OUR  FATHER.''  79 

"  And  you  think,  John,  that  the  works 
of  God  prove  that  he  must  exist,  do  you?" 
asked  Henry. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Your  answer  reminds  me  of  the  boy 
who  came  running  to  his  mother  one 
morning,  saying,  '  Mother,  I  am  sure !'  " 
Here  Uncle  Henry  broke  off  short.  The 
children  thought  he  was  about  to  tell  them 
a  story,  and  they  sat  listening  attentively. 
At  last  Jennie  could  not  restrain  her  curi- 
osity longer,  and  she  asked, 

"  What  was  the  boy  sure  about,  uncle?" 

"Why,  sure  that  somebody  had  been 
out  in  the  morning  before  him." 

"  AVhat  made  him  sure  about  that,  Mr. 
Woodman?"  asked  another. 

"I  will  tell  you,"  replied  Mr.  Wood- 
man. "  Edward  Green  was  a  little  boy, 
about  six  years  old.  The  first  snow-storm 
of  tlie  winter  had  begun  the  niglit  before, 
after  he  had  gone  to  bed.  It  was  so  long 
since  the  last  winter  that  it  seemed  quite 
new  and  strange  to  him  to  see  everything 
covered  witli  white;  the  garden,  the  trees, 
tlio  fences,  all  of  the  same  color.     As  he 


80  VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

slipped  out  into  the  front  yard,  with  his 
nice  new  boots  on,  there  stood  old  Leo, 
the  great  ^Newfoundland  dog,  looking 
moi*e  like  a  white  bear  than  like  a  real 
good-natured  dog  as  he  was." 

" '  I  am  sure  somebody  has  been  out,' 
said  Edward,  as  he  returned  to  the 
house. 

a  i  ^hy  V  asked  his  mother. 

" '  O  !  because  I  am,'  answered  the  boy. 
'I  ssiw  foot-prints.^ 

"  '  Couldn't  the  footprints  have  come  of 
themselves  V 

"  '  Why,  no,'  said  Edward,  laughing,  and 
half  thinking  to  himself  that  his  mother 
did  not  ask  very  wise  questions.  'And  be- 
sides, mother,  these  are  the  tracks  of  a  wag- 
on.' 

"  '  But,'  said  the  mother  again  '  couldn't 
the  tracks  have  come  of  themselves  ?' 

"  '  No,'  said  the  little  boy  ;  'no,  mother, 
I  do  not  think  anybody  could  have  made 
them  without  a  wagon.  I  am  sure  some- 
body has  been  out.' 

"Was  little  Edward  right  or  wrong, 
children,  in  thinking  that  somebody  had 


GOD  "OUR  FATHER."  81 

been  out  that  morning  because  he  saw 
their  tracks  ?" 

"Right,"  they  answered. 

"  Yery  true,"  replied  Mr.  Woodman  ; 
"  and  Edward  was  perfectly  right  in  be- 
ing sure  about  it.  It  is  perfectly  right  to 
be  positive  about  some  things.  We  may 
be  sure  that  there  is  a  God !  We  see  the 
sun,  the  moon,  and  the  world  we  live  on. 
We  see  the  stars,  and  the  clouds,  the  rain, 
the  snow,  and  a  thousand  other  things  that 
man  could  never  have  made.  We  see 
ourselves,  and  all  the  animals,  and  living 
things  around  us. 

"And  then,  too,  the  seasons  come  and 
go,  each,  in  turn,  bringing  its  proper  at- 
tendants. Spring  unlocks  the  icy  fetters 
of  the  brooks  and  rills,  warms  the  roots 
and  seeds  of  flowers  into  life  and  beauty, 
clothes  the  fields  and  forests  with  verdure, 
and  calls  back  the  birds  to  fill  the  groves 
with  their  matchless  music. 

"  Then  summer  comes,  and  her  warm 
breath  matures  the  waving  harvests  and 
delicious  fruits,  and  we  rejoice  iu  her  rich 
profusion. 


82  VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

''  Close  in  the  footsteps  of  summer  fol- 
lows autumn ;  and  with  a  liberal  hand  she 
scatters  the  apples  and  pears  among  the 
joyous  children,  and  shakes  down,  for  the 
laughing  ones  beneath,  the  brown  nuts 
from  the  high  branches  above;  and  fills 
to  overflowing  the  granaries  of  the  happy 
husbandman  with  the  fruits  of  his  toil. 

"  Then  winter  comes,  and  spreads  over 
hill  and  dale  his  covering  of  spotless  white. 
He  throws  his  fetters  upon  the  dancing 
streamlets,  and  their  gushing  music  is 
hushed,  and  their  merry  feet  are  still.  He 
breathes  upon  the  broad  bosom  of  pond 
and  lake,  and  an  icy  shield  is  left  above 
their  liquid  depths.  He  stretches  out  his 
hand  over  the  forests,  and  the  tall  trees 
tremble,  and  the  seared  leaves  are  shaken 
to  the  earth.  He  touches  the  mystic  keys 
of  his  winter-harp,  and  old  Boreas  wakes 
from  his  northern  couch,  and  comes  leap- 
ing and  dancino^  over  the  earth  to  the  wild 
music,  piling  up  the  snows,  covering 
stumps,  and  stones,  and  shrubs,  blocking 
up  the  highways,  and  ahnost  obscuring 
the  little  cottages  by  the  hill-side.   A  wild 


GOD  "OUR  FATHER."  83 

time  the  old  fellow  has  of  it  as  he  thrills 
to  the  music  of  that  winter-harp ;  and 
often,  in  the  phrensy  of  his  excitement,  he 
seizes  the  giant  ships  on  the  ocean,  and 
dashes  them  with  tlie  strength  of  his  pow- 
erful arm  upon  the  granite  shore. 

"  Yes,  dear  children,  everything  around 
us  tells  of  God.  His  works  are  every- 
where. These  are  his  foot-prints,  the  marks 
of  his  presence,  and  the  tokens  of  his  wis- 
dom and  power.  Edward  knew  by  those 
foot-prints  in  the  newly-fallen  snow,  that  a 
man  had  been  there  ;  for  none  but  a  man 
could  have  made  those  tracks.  He  knew 
by  the  mountains  and  valleys,  the  mead- 
ows and  uplands,  the  trees,  and  shrubs, 
and  flowers,  the  men,  and  beasts,  and 
birds,  the  sun,  and  moon,  and  stars,  the 
ocean,  lakes,  and  rivers,  and  by  all  the  ten 
thousand  objects  which  everywhere  meet 
our  view,  that  God  has  been  here,  for  none 
but  God  could  have  made  these  things. 

"  When  I  take  up  a  book  to  read  I  can- 
not see  the  author,  but  I  know  tliat  the 
author  once  lived,  or  else  the  book  never 
would  have  been  written.     I  may  know, 


84  VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

too,  by  the  character  of  the  work,  some- 
thing of  the  character  of  its  writer.  If  the 
book  is  filled  with  wise  thoughts  and  noble 
sayings,  I  know  that  the  authorwas  a  wise 
man;  for  an  ignorant  man  could  not  think 
wise  thoughts,  or  write  noble  sentiments. 
All  this  I  can  learn,  though  I  had  never 
seen  the  author  in  my  life. 

^'So,  too,  if  I  examine  a  very  curious 
machine,  I  may  learn  something  of  the 
inventor's  powers  from  the  machine  itself. 
If  it  is  wisely  adjusted  in  its  several  parts, 
it  certainly  required  skill  upon  the  part  of 
the  maker.  If  it  is  very  complicated,  and 
yet  operates  freely  and  powerfully,  then  it 
shows  wisdom  as  well  as  skill. 

"But,  children,  suppose  we  should  see 
a  noble  mansion,  full  of  •every  comfort, 
with  beautiful  grounds  surrounding  it  on 
all  sides.  There  were  broad,  green  fields 
filled  with  waving  harvests,  hedge-rows 
neatly  trimmed,  walks  smooth  as  the 
swept  floor,  gardens  blooming  with  choic- 
est flowers,  and  every  object  which  could 
please  and  delight. 

"We  inquire  the  use  of  that  beautiful 


GOD   "OUR  FATHER."  85 

mansion,  and  learn  that  it  was  built  by  a 
noble-hearted  man,  as  a  home  for  the  poor 
and  needy,  the  children  of  poverty  and 
affliction.  Here  they  have  every  comfort 
which  wealth  can  procure  or  love  bestow. 
Here  their  every  want  is  anticipated,  and 
all  their  necessities  fully  met.  And  all 
this  '  without  money  and  without  price.' 

^'  What,  children,  should  we  think  of 
such  a  man  ?"" 

"We  should  think  he  was  very  kind 
and  good,"  answered  Robert. 

'^How  would  you  know  he  was  kind 
and  good,  if  you  had  never  seen  him  ?" 

"His  works  would  show  it,"  replied 
Charles. 

"  Yery  true.  We  should  no  more 
doubt  in  either  of  the  cases  which  we 
have  supposed,  than  if  we  had  seen  the 
men  who  had  written  the  book,  invented 
the  machine,  and  built  the  mansion. 
Their  works  would  discover  to  us  their 
characters  in  these  various  respects. 

"  And  now,  children,  can  you  tell  me 
how  we  are  to  learn  the  character  of 
God?" 


86  VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

"  By  looking  at  his  works,"  replied 
Willie. 

"This  is  one  way,"  said  Henry,  "but 
we  ought  to  be  very  grateful  that  it  is  not 
the  only  way.  What  do  we  learn  of  God 
by  viewing  his  works?" 

"That  he  is  wise,"  replied  one  timidly. 

"But  how  may  we  learn  this  from  the 
works  of  God  r 

"He  must  have  been  wise,  or  he  could 
never  have  made  all  the  wonderful  objects 
-which  we  see  around  us,"  answered  the  boy. 

"  Very  true.  And  could  I  stop  to  show 
you  how  many  curious  things  there  are  in 
the  earth,  you  would  be  far  more  aston- 
ished at  the  wisdom  of  God  than  you  now 
are.  But  what  else  do  we  learn  about 
God  from  the  works  of  creation  *" 

"  We  learn  that  God  is  very  pK)w- erful," 
was  answered. 

"  How  can  you  show  this,  Robert  ?" 

"  God  must  be  powerful,  or  he  could  not 
have  created  so  many  stars,  and  planets, 
and  the  sun,  and  moon,  and  earth,  and  all 
the  mighty  things  which  we  see  around 
us,"  replied  the  boy. 


GOD   "OUR   FATHER."  87 

"Yes,  children,  these  and  many  otlier 
things  concerning  God  we  may  learn  from 
nature.  But  there  are  other  points  quite 
as  important  for  us  to  know,  that  we 
could  never  learn  from  this  source.  Sup- 
pose we  desired  to  discover  from  nature 
whether  God  loved  us  or  not,  how  should 
we  do  it?" 

"He  has  given  us  the  flowers,"  said 
Jennie. 

"He  causes  the  earth  to  produce  food 
for  us,"  said  Nathan  Lang. 

"  He  has  made  the  bright  sunshine,  and 
filled  the  groves  with  singing  birds,"  re- 
plied little  laughing  Nell}'  Bly. 

"He  sends  us  rain  and  dew,"  added 
another. 

And  so  they  continued  for  some  mo- 
ments, each  having  some  way  in  which 
to  learn  from  nature  the  goodness  of  God. 
Henry  listened  until  they  had  given  their 
several  answers,  and  then  remarked : 

"  Yes,  God  has  given  us  the  flowers,  as 
Jennie  has  said  ;  and  we  might  learn  from 
these  that  he  is  good,  had  he  not  given 
us  weeds,  and  thistles,  and  thorns  like- 


88  VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

wise.  If  the  flowers  show  the  goodness 
of  God,  what  do  the  briers  and  thistles 
show,  Jennie?" 

Jennie  could  not  answer  this  question. 
She  looked  puzzled  :  and  I  do  not  wonder ; 
for  older  heads  than  hers  have  been  puz- 
zled with  less  difficult  questions  than  this. 

"  So  also  we  might  ask,"  Mr.  Woodman 
resumed,  "if  the  food  which  the  earth 
produces  shows  us  God's  love,  what  does 
the  poison  denote?  It  is  true,  God  has 
made  the  bright  sunshine,  and  the  music 
of  birds,  and  these  are  gi^at  blessings ; 
true,  also,  that  he  gives  the  rain  and  the 
dew,  and  without  these  we  must  perish. 
But  does  not  God  also  gather  the  clouds 
and  send  the  storms?  Does  he  not  send 
the  earthquake  to  swallow  up,  and  the 
pestilence  to  destroy?  Does  he  not  bid 
the  birds  depart  to  warmer  climes,  and 
bring  the  cold,  cheerless  winter?  Have 
we  not  drought  as  well  as  rain,  and  is  not 
the  dew  often  withheld? 

"Yes,  children,  it  is  plain  we  cannot 
learn  all  about  God  from  his  works.  We 
may  learn  from  these  that  there  is  a  God^ 


GOD   "OUR   FATHER."  89 

and  that  he  is  great,  and  wise,  and  pow- 
erful. "We  might,  perhaps,  learn  many 
other  things  concerning  him  from  the 
creation. 

"But  still  ^ve  should  be  very  much  in 
the  dark  as  to  wliether  God  was  really 
good  or  not.  I  should  almost  fear  that 
we  might  come  to  the  conclusion  that  he 
was  very  much  like  man,  partly  good  and 
partly  bad.  We  might  call  the  sunshine 
his  smile,  and  the  storm  his  frown ;  the 
gentle  zephyrs  his  soft  kiss,  and  the  sweep- 
ing tornado  his  mighty  withering  stroke ; 
the  mild  moonlight  and  the  hum  of  joy- 
ous life,  his  beaming  glance  and  soft 
whispers;  and  the  lightning's  glare  and 
tlie  thunder's  deep-toned  voice,  tlie  flash- 
ings of  his  anger,  and  the  utterance  of  his 
wratli."  Uncle  Henry  paused  a  moment, 
and  then  asked : 

"Is  there  anything  that  is  all  good  in 
this  world?" 

The  children  could  not  think  of  any- 
tiling.  Indeed,  when  they  thought  of 
sometliing  that  seemed  at  first  sight  to  be 
wholly  good,  upon  turning  it  over  they 


90  VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

were  sure  to  find  some  nglj  spot,  some 
drawback  about  it.  It  was  not  all  good 
after  all. 

"  And  so  it  is,"  continued  Mr.  Wood- 
man. "The  brightest  objects  will  cast  a 
shadow ;  and  the  sweetest  things  will  be- 
come stale  and  sour.  If  we  see  a  beauti- 
ful rose,  we  are  sure  that  thorns  guard  it ; 
and  if  all  around  us  is  bright  and  joyous 
to-day,  the  darker  and  more  sorrowful 
may  be  the  morrow. 

"  So,  too,  in  regard  to  the  providence  of 
God.  Prosperity  and  continued  health 
might  lead  some  to  look  upon  the  Deity 
as  supremely  good.  But  what  would  be 
that  person's  view  of  the  Divine  character, 
who  for  long  years  was  racked  with  pain 
and  consumed  by  disease;  or  another's, 
whose  children  were  stricken  by  death, 
and  whose  fair  prospects  and  bright 
hopes  were  eclipsed  in  the  darkness  of 
sorrow  ? 

"I  said,  a  few  moments  since,  that  by 
studying  the  works  of  God,  was  one  way 
to  discover  his  cliaracter.  Can  you  tell 
me  of  any  other  source  of  knowledge  in 


GOD   "OUR   father/'  91 

regard  to  tlie  character  and  will  of 
God  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Joseph  Towne. 
"God  is  revealed  in  the  Bible." 

"How  do  you  know  that  the  Bible  is 
true,  Joseph?"  asked  Mr.  Woodman. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Woodman,  don't  you  think 
the  Bible  is  true  ?"  replied  the  boy,  in  as- 
tonishment. 

"O,  I  didn't  say  that,  Joseph!  I  sim- 
ply asked  you  how  you  knew  that  the 
Bible  is  true?"  replied  Uncle  Henry. 

"Why,  I  think  it  is  true,  because — " 
but  here  the  boy  stopped,  not  because  he 
doubted  the  truth  of  the  Bible,  but  he 
couldn't  think  of  any  good  reason  wh}^  he 
believed  as  he  did.  He  had  not  been 
used  to  answer  such  questions,  or  to  give 
a  reason  for  his  belief. 

"  Can  any  one  think  of  a  good  reason 
why  he  believes  the  Bible  is  true?"  asked 
Mr.  Woodman.  "  It  is  printed  on  paper, 
and  bound  just  like  any  other  book. 
It  looks  very  much  like  other  books. 
Wliy,  then,  should  we  think  that  tho 
Bible  came  from  God  ?" 


92  VOICES  FKOM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

No  one  could  answer  the  question. 
They  had  never  thought  of  the  subject 
before. 

"  Will  you  please  tell  us,  uncle  ?"  asked 
Jennie. 

"  I  cannot  enter  far  into  the  merits  of 
the  question  to-day :  we  have  not  time. 
I  will  only  say  now,  that  we  need  not  fear 
to  be  sure  that  the  Bible  is  true.  Wicke4 
men  would  not  have  written  such  a  good 
book,  if  they  could ;  for  the  Bible  is  ter- 
ribly severe  upon  wickedness.  Good  men 
would  not  tell  a  lie,  and  say  it  was  God's 
holy  word,  when  it  was  not. 

"  Yes,  children,  you  may  be  sure  when 
you  open  the  Bible  and  read,  that  you  are 
reading  what  God  has  said.  It  is  true 
that  men  wrote  the  Bible ;  but  they  wrote 
just  as  God  instructed  them.  Hence  it 
is  God's  word." 

"  But  how  can  it  be  God's  word  if  man 
wrote  it,  Mr.  Woodman?"  asked  Nathan. 

*'  Suppose,  Nathan,  I  should  ask  you  to 
take  your  pen  and  paper,  and  sit  down 
and  write  a  letter  for  me  to  some  of  my 
friends.     Well,   you  get   your   pen   and 


GOD  "OUR  FATHER."  93 

paper,  and  seat  yourself  at  your  writing- 
desk  ;  and  then  you  ask,  '  What  shall  I 
write,  Mr.  Woodman?'  and  so  I  commence 
and  tell  you  just  what  to  write.  I  don't 
give  you  the  very  words,  but  I  tell  you 
the  substance,  and  you  express  it  in  your 
own  language ;  though  I  see  that  your 
words  are  properly  chosen,  and  thus  guard 
you  against  the  use  of  words  wllich  do  not 
properly  express  my  meaning.  Now,  I 
ask  you,  whose  letter  would  that  be ; 
yours  or  mine  ?'' 

"  Mine,"  said  Nathan ;  "  because  I 
wrote  it." 

"  Yours,"  answered  Willie  ;  "  because 
you  told  him  what  to  write." 

''Well,  perhaps  you  are  both  right. 
Nathan  is  right  in  one  sense,  and  you  in 
another,  Willie.  The  letter  would  be 
Nathan's,  because  the  words  and  the 
handwriting  were  his  ;  and  it  would  be 
mine,  because  the  thoughts  were  mine. 

''Suppose,  again,  that  Willie  was  sick, 
and  he  wished  to  send  a  letter  to  Nathan, 
but  he  was  too  weak  to  write  it  himself. 
He,  therefore,  asks  Jennie  to  write  it  for 


94  VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

him.  Jennie  sits  down  by  the  stand  at 
the  side  of  his  bed,  and  says,  '  Well,  what 
shall  I  write?'  Willy  tells  her  to  write 
first,  that  he  is  sick,  and  how  long  he  has 
been  sick,  and  what  bitter  medicine  he 
has  had  to  take.  Then  he  bids  her  ask 
!Nathan  all  abont  the  school,  and  the  boys, 
and  who  got  the  prizes,  etc.  Now,  Nathan, 
when  you  received  that  letter,  whom  would 
you  say  it  was  from  ?" 

"  From  Jennie,  sir." 

"  Yes,  from  the  pen  of  Jennie ;  but 
whose  mind  was  it  from  ?" 

"  Willie's,  sir,"  replied  the  boy. 

"And  if  the  letter  contained  an  in- 
vitation to  visit  Willie,  whom  would 
that  invitation  be  from ;  Jennie  or  her 
brother?" 

"  Her  brother,  sir ;  because  he  told  her 
to  write  it." 

"  Yery  true,  Nathan.  Now  you  under- 
stand what  I  meant  by  saying  that  you 
were  both  right. 

"  Just  so  it  is  in  regard  to  the^  Bible. 
Men  wrote  it,  but  the  thoughts  are  God's. 
A  part  of  it  is  by  Moses,  and  a  part  by 


GOD  "OUR  FATHER."  95 

David,  and  a  part  by  Solomon.  Other 
portions  were  written  by  Isaiah  and  the 
otlier  propliets,  and  some  by  the  evangel- 
ists and  apostles.  But  still  it  is  all  from 
God,  because  the  tliouglits  are  his.  He 
taught  them  what  to  write,  and  they  ex- 
pressed it  in  their  own  language,  though 
with  their  minds  and  pens  under  his  guid- 
ance. This,  perhaps,  was  the  usual  way. 
But  sometimes  it  appeal's  that  God  gave 
them  the  very  words  to  write,  for  we  often 
read  sentences  commencing  with,  'Thus 
saitli  the  Lord.' 

"If,  then,  we  can  find  God's  character 
revealed  in  the  Bible,  we  may  be  sure  it 
is  a  true  character. 

"Let  us  then  look  into  the  Bible  and 
see  what  it  says  about  '  Our  Father  who 
art  in  heaven.'  Certainly,  if  he  is  our  Fa- 
ther, we  ought  to  be  deeply  interested  to 
learn  what  kind  of  a  Father  he  is.  I 
think  if  any  of  you  had  never  seen  your 
earthly  father  since  your  remembrance, 
and  knew  nothina:  about  him  more  than 
you  could  learn  from  the  house  which  he 
built  before  you  were  born,  and  the  gar- 


96         VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

den  and  playthings  which  he  made  for 
your  comfort  and  pleasure,  before  you 
were  old  enough  to  thank  him  for  them, 
you  would  be  deeply  interested  to  hear 
about  him  from  any  one  who  knew 
him. 

"  And  if,  children,  some  day  the  mail 
should  bring  you  a  letter  from  that  father, 
written,  it  is  true,  by  the  hand  of  another, 
but  still  containing  the  thoughts  of  your 
l^arent,  how  eagerly  you  would  break  the 
seal  and  read  the  contents.  And  if  he 
should  tell  you  that  very  soon  he  would 
send  a  messenger  to  take  you  to  live  with 
himself  in  his  beautiful  mansion  which  he 
had  prepared  especially  for  your  comfort, 
how  speedily  would  you  prepare  for  the 
journey,  and  how  carefully  would  you 
remain  in  readiness  until  the  messenger 
should  arrive. 

"Well,  children,  we  have  a  ^Father 
in  heaven'  whom  we  have  never  seen. 
True,  we  can  learn  something  of  him  by 
looking  at  the  beautiful  things  he  has 
made  for  our  comfort  and  pleasure.  But 
this  is  not  all.     I  have  a  letter  from  him  ; 


GOD  ''OUK  FATHER."  97 

and  not  simply  one,  but  many,  written  at 
various  times,  and  sent  by  different  persons. 
Here  they  are,  collected  in  this  book, 
\Yhich  we  call  the  Bible ;"  and  Uncle 
Henry  took  from  his  pocket  the  little 
clasp  Bible  which  he  had  made  his  dayly 
companion  for  many  years. 

"The  next  time  we  meet,  I  want  you 
all  to  bring  your  Bibles  with  yon,  so  that 
we  may  examine  these  letters  from  our 
Father  more  conveniently. 

"Let  us  see,  in  the  first  place,  what '  Our 
Father'  says  about  himself  That  he  is  a 
great  and  powerful  and  wise  Creator,  we 
have  already  learned.  "We  wish  to  look 
at  him  to-day  in  the  character  of  a 
father. 

"Children,  what  feelings  or  sentiments 
do  you  think  a  parent  ought  to  exercise 
toward  his  child  ?" 

"  Love,"  said  one. 

"  Kindness,"  answered  another. 

"Patience,"  replied  a  fliird. 

"  Forbearance,"  said  Robert. 

"  Forgiveness,"  added  Jennie,  after  a 
short  silence. 


98  VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

"  Quite  a  list,  and  I  presume,  upon  re- 
flection, you  could  extend  it  considerably," 
replied  Mr.  Woodman.  ''Let  us  look  at 
these  one  at  a  time.  First,  then,  we 
have, 

"Love.  Can  any  of  you  show  me  from 
the  Bible  that  our  heavenly  Father  is  lov- 
ing?" 

Some  five  or  six  hands  were  raised  im- 
mediately. Uncle  Henry  waited  a  few 
moments  for  others  to  think  of  proof-texts. 
Yery  soon  every  hand  was  up.  All  could 
think  of  some  verse  from  the  Bible  to 
prove  that  God  was  a  being  of  love. 

"We  will  commence  with  iSTellie,"  said 
Henry  to  the  little  girl,  who  had  nestled 
lovingly  to  his  side. 

"  '  God  is  love,'  "  sweetly  answered  the 
child,  as  she  put  her.arm  around  Jennie, 
and  drew  her  little  playmate  lovingly  to 
her  side. 

"Yes,  darling;  and  'They  that  dwell  in 
love,  dwell  in  God,' "  replied  Mr.  Wood- 
man, as  he  marked  the  movement  of  the 
loving  girl.     "And  now  for  yours,  Jen- 


GOD  "OUR  FATHER."  99 

"  Mine  was  tlie  same  as  Nellie's,"  replied 
Jennie. 

"  Yery  well,  then,  we  will  pass  to  the 
next.  Susan,  I  saw  your  hand  rise  among 
the  first.     What  text  did  you  think  of  ?" 

" '  We  love  him  because  he  first  loved 
ns,'  "replied  the  modest  girl.  Susan  Grey 
was  a  bright  girl  of  ten,  but  she  was  so 
retiring,  that  she  did  not  seem  so  old  as 
that. 

"  How  very  true,  my  young  friends," 
replied  Henry.  "  Man  would  never  have 
loved  even  his  Father  in  heaven  had  not 
that  Father  first  loved  him.  Charles,  let 
us  hear  what  you  were  thinking  of." 

"'For  God,  who  is  rich  in  mercy,  for 
the  great  love  wherewith  he  loved  us, 
hath  quickened  us  together  with  Christ,' " 
replied  Charles. 

"Yery  good.  We  will  hear  Eobert 
next,  and  then  we  must  proceed  to  other 
topics." 

" '  For  I  am  persuaded,  that  neither 
death,  nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor  principali- 
ties, nor  powers,  nor  things  present,  nor 
things  to  come,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor 


100        VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

any  otiier  creature,  shall  be  able  to  sepa- 
rate us  from  the  love  of  God,  which  is  in 
Christ  Jesus  our  Lord,' "  said  Robert. 

"  A  precious  text,"  replied  Uncle  Hen- 
ry, his  whole  soul  kindling  with  joy. 
"E"othing,  dear  children,  can  hinder  us 
from  loving  God,  or  rob  us  of  his  love  for 
us.  And  this  love  our  heavenly  Father 
has  manifested  in  a  thousand  ways.  How 
manv  ar-e  the  blessino^  with  which  he  is 
crowning  our  every  day.  God  is,  indeed, 
good  to  his  children ;  he  is,  indeed,  a  fa- 
ther ! 

"  But  the  gift  of  Jesus  Christ,  as  our 
Saviour,  is  the  most  striking  proof  of  his 
love  to  man.  Christ  was  God's  only  Son  ; 
and  yet  the  Father  gave  him  to  die  for 
us.  Let  us  never  forget  that  'He  spared 
not  his  own  Son.  but  delivered  him  up 
for  us  all.'  And  if  he  has  done  this,  if 
his  love  was  so  great  for  us,  sinners  as 
we  are,  that  he  would  not  spare  his  Son, 
w^hen  his  death  was  necessary  for  man's 
redemption,  '  Shall  he  not  with  him  also 
freely  give  us  all  things?' 

"  The  kindness  of  our  heavenly  Father 


GOD   "OUK   FATHER."  101 

is  not  less  signal  than  his  love ;  for  it  is 
even  said  of  him,  that  '  He  is  kind  to  the 
unthankful  and  the  evil ;'  much  more  to 
the  obedient  and  good.  '  Like  as  a  father 
pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth 
them  that  fear  him.' 

"  God,  as  our  Father,  is  patient  also 
with  man.  'He  hath  not  dealt  with  us 
after  our  sins,  nor  rewarded  us  according 
to  our  iniquities.'  He  is  styled  by  Paul, 
'The  God  of  patience  and  consolation.' 
And  the  apostle  speaks  likewise  of  'The 
riches  of  his  goodness,  and  forbearance, 
and  long-suffering.' 

"  Come,  let  us  sing  unto  the  Lord  and 
say  with  the  psalmist,  '  Bless  the  Lord,  O 
my  soul,  and  forget  not  all  his  benefits! 
who  forgiveth  all  thine  iniquities,  who 
healeth  all  thy  diseases.' 

"I  have  not  time  to  remind  you  of  all 
the  goodness  of  your  divine  Father,  nor  to 
illustrate  all  his  loving-kindness  unto  his  - 
children.     But  I  wish  to  ask  you  a  few 
questions : 

"If,   children,  God   is  so  good  to  us, 
what  is  our  duty  toward  him?'* 
.7 


102         VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELaI. 

"We  should  love  him,"  was  the  im- 
mediate answer. 

The  words  seemed  to  fall  from  every 
lip.  This  was  the  first  thought  of  each  of 
that  3T)Uthful  company.  If  God  was  so 
good  to  them,  if  he  had  manifested  his 
love  in  so  many  ways,  surely  it  was  their 
duty  to  love  him  in  return. 

"  Yery  wisely  answered,"  replied  Henrj^ ; 
"and  I  am  glad  to  find  you  all  agreed  in 
this  sentiment.  Never  forget  it,  children  ; 
but  always  keep  in  remembrance  that  it 
is  your  duty  to  love  God  with  all  your 
heart. 

"  But  how  should  we  shov^^  our  love  to 
our  heavenly  Father?"  again  asked  Mr. 
Woodman. 

"By  obedience,"  w\as  responded  al- 
most as  unanimously  as  before. 

"  Yery  true ;  for  we  know  that  Chrisfc 
says,  'If  ye  love  me,  keep  my  com- 
mandments;' and  again,  'If  a  man  love 
me,  he  Avill  keep  my  words.'  Obedience, 
is  the  test  of  love.  If  we  love  our  earthly 
parents  we  shall  obey  them ;  and  the 
child  who   (Joes   not  obey  his   father  or 


GOD   "OUR  FATHER."  103 

mother,  proves  to  us  that  he  does  not  love 
his  parents  purely. 

"But  this  obedience  is  very  extensive. 
It  must  include  a  great  many  things, 
must  it  not?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  the  children  replied. 

"Will  you  mention  some  of  them?" 
asked  Henry. 

"We  must  love  each  other,"  said 
Susan. 

"Can  you  prove  it  from  the  Bible, 
Susan?"  ' 

"I  think  I  can.  I  read  in  my  Testa- 
ment the  other  day  this  text:  'Beloved, 
let  us  love  one  another;  for  love  is  of 
God,  and  every  one  that  loveth  is  born  of 
God,  and  knoweth  God.'  And  then,  a 
little  further  on,  I  read  this:  'If  a  man 
say  I  love  God,  and  hateth  his  brother,  he 
is  a  liar;  for  he  that  loveth  not  his 
brother  whom  he  hath  seen,  how  can  he 
lovo  God  whom  he  hath  not  seen?'  Does 
this  prove  it,  Mr.  Woodman?" 

"  I  think  it  does,  Susan ;  and  pretty 
fully  too.  Willie,  what  text  would  you 
quote  to  prove  this  point?" 


104        VOICES  FROM   THE   OLD   ELM. 

"  I  have  thought  of  this,  uncle ;"  and 
Willie  repeated  very  slowly,  and  with 
deep  seriousness,  the  following:  "'Thou 
shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all 
thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with 
all  thy  strength,  and  with  all  thy  mind, 
and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself.' " 

"A  very  close  text,  Willie.  It  is  not 
every  one  who  professes  to  love  God,  who 
gives  proof  that  he  loves  his  neighbor  as 
himself.  It  is  a  pretty  difficult  matter  to 
live  so  as  never  to  be  selfish  ;  to  feel  just  as 
happy  doing  good  to  othei^  as  in  receiving 
it  ourselves.  Nothing  but  the  grace  of 
God  can  aid  us  in  this  difficult  work. 

"  We  need  ask  no  more  questions  about 
our  duty  to  our  fellows  ;  for  if  we  love 
them  as  we  love  ourselves,  we  shall  strive 
and  labor  every  day  and  every  hour  for 
their  comfort  and  happiness.  Kemember, 
'  he  that  dwelleth  in  love  dwelleth  in  God, 
and  God  in  him.'  Eemember,  too,  what 
God  commanded  John  to  write:  'My 
little  children,  let  us  not  love  in  word, 
neither  in  tongue ;  but  in  deed  and  in 
truth.' 


GOD   "OUR   FATHER."  105 

"Before  we  part,  I  want  to  give  you  an 
account  of  little  John,  and  wliat  he  did 
one  morning  u}3on  waking  up  from  sleep. 

"When  John  awaked  in  the  morning 
tliere  was  only  a  streak  of  sunshine  on 
the  wall ;  he  watched  it,  and  it  kept  grow- 
ing bigger  and  bigger,  until  it  spread  al- 
most to  the  size  of  the  window.  'The 
sun  never  gets  tired  of  rising,'  tliought  he; 
'  it  is  a  good  sun.'  Then  he  heard  a  robin 
sing.  'The  robin  is  up  early  f  and  the 
boy  turned  his  eyes  toward  tlio  window. 
'  He  sings  very  briskly,  and  sweetly,  too. 
What  makes  the  dear  little  robin  sing  so?' 
Next  he  thought,  what  a  nice  little  bed 
he  was  in,  and  how  white  the  co\'erlet 
looked.  Then  he  caught  sight  of  his  new 
jacket  hanging  on  a  peg  in  the  corner. 
'That  is  certainly  a  grand  new  jacket; 
and  there  is  my  own  comb  and  brush,' 
glancing  at  the  table;  'what  a  beautiful 
little  brush  that  is  !'  He  lay  and  thought, 
looking  first  at  one  thing,  and  then  at  an- 
other. '  What  a  pleasant  home  I  have  got,' 
said  John,  aloud  ;  '  and  father  and  mother, 
how  real  good  they  are!' 


106         VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

"John  tbgiiglit  and  thonglit,  until  his 
spirit  grew  very  tender.  '  And  who  made 
the  sun,  and  the  robins,  and  my  parents, 
and  all  these  things  V  This  question,  some- 
how, forced  itself  ver^^  powerfully  on  liis 
mind.  '  Yes,'  he  repeated  to  himself, '  who 
really  did  make  all  these  nice  things?'  and 
a  voice  seemed  to  speak  right  to  his  heart, 
'God  made  tliem !' 

"It  seemed  as  if  John  never  saw  so 
much  of  God  in  everything  before.  Look 
where  he  would,  he  was  all  around  him ; 
and  his  hand  was  full  of  blessings. 

"  Then  tlie  tlioughts  of  the  boy  turned  to 
tlie  Bible  account  of  this  great  and  good 
Being ;  and  how  it  is  said  that  he  also  gave 
his  Son  to  die  for  us.  'That's  because  we 
broke  his  holy  law,'  said  John  to  himself. 
He  wondered  how  it  could  be,  seeing  God 
was  so  good  ;  and  yet  he  saw  as  he  had 
never  seen  before,  that  he  had  not  minded 
whether  he  obeyed  God  or  not.  'I  am 
sure  I  have  been  very  wicked  and  ungrate- 
ful, very,'  thought  John;  'and  yet  God  did 
not  cast  me  off,  but  sent  Jesus  Christ  to 
wash  my  sins  away,  and  make  me  what  I 


GOD   "OUR   FATHER."  107 

onglit  to  he.  Only  to  think  wliat  a  God 
the  i^reat  God  is !'  and  he  felt  sorry  and 
penitent  for  his  sins,  and  the  tears  rolled 
down  his  rosy  cheeks. 

'*Soon  John  arose,  and  kneeling  down 
beside  his  little  bed,  bowed  his  head  in 
prayer.  He  had  often  '  said  his  prayers ' 
before,  but  now  it  w^as  different.  God 
seemed  very,  very  near.  He  was  all 
around  him,  and  the  boy  trembled  for 
fear.  He  thought  of  his  sins,  his  unthank- 
fulness,  and  his  wicked  neglect  of  God's 
commands.  He  knew  not  which  way  to 
tnrn.  Everywhere  he  could  see  his  heav- 
enly Father's  anger  at  sin. 

"Just  then  he  seemed  to  hear  Jesus  say- 
ing, */am  the  way;'  and  the  child  tried 
from  the  depths  of  his  heart  to  pray, 
'Father,  for  Christ's  sake,  forgive  my 
sins.'  And  his  Father  heard  his  prayer, 
and  kindly  forgave  his  sins,  and  the  little 
boy's  heart  was  very  happy.  And  then, 
as  a  sense  of  God's  mercy  in  giving  his 
Son  to  die  for  sinnei-s  came  over  him,  he 
felt  thankful  as  he  had  never  done  before, 
and  resolved  that,  by  the  help  of  the  Holy 


108        VOICES   FROM   THE   OLD   ELM. 

Spirit,  he  would  trust  in  Christ,  and  love 
and  serve  him  always." 

A  hymn  of  praise  was  sung,  and  another 
prayer  was  offered,  and  then  the  little  com- 
pany separated,  loving  God  and  each  other 
better  than  they  ever  did  before,  and  with 
their  hearts  full  of  pious  resolves  to  serve 
their"  kind,  heavenly  Father  all  the  days 
of  their  lives. 


"HALLOWED   BE   THY  NAME."        109 

CHAPTEK  YI. 

'•HALLOWED   BE   THY  NAME." 

Nothing  of  special  interest  occurred 
during  the  next  week.  Henry  was  busy 
in  his  little  bed-chamber  preparing  his 
sermons  for  the  next  Sabbath,  as  he  was 
to  preach  for  the  pastor  on  that  day,  for 
the  aged  man  was  prostrate  upon  a  bed 
of  sickness. 

But  so  gently  had  time  dealt  with  the 
aged  man,  and  so  gradually  had  the  gray 
hairs  crept  in  among  his  once  raven  locks, 
that  few  could  realize  he  had  not  always 
been  just  as  they  now  beheld  him.  And 
yet  he  had  passed  his  three  score  years 
and  ten. 

Saturday  afternoon  came  at  last,  and  so 
did  the  children.  Little  Ella  was  still  ab- 
sent,  though  the  fever  had  left  her  and 
she  was  much  better.  All  the  others 
were  there ;  and  again  they  took  their 
places  in  the  Old  Elm. 


110        YOI0E3   FROM   THE   OLD   ELM.    . 

When  a  hymn  liad  been  sung  and  a 
prayer  oflered,  each  boy  and  girl  opened 
a  pocket  Bible  and  held  it  ready  for  use. 

"Well,  my  dear  children,"  began  Mr. 
Woodman,  "God  has  again  permitted  us 
to  meet  in  this  charming  place  to  learn 
some  useful  lesson  from  his  word.  I  am 
glad  to  see  that  each  has  a  Bible.  I  hope 
you  read  it  every  day.  It  is  the  only  book 
that  we  can  wholl}^  trust  in.  This  is  all 
true,  all  good,  all  precious !  Other  books 
there  are  which  are  called  good,  but  they 
are.  not  all  good.  The}^  are  just  like  their 
authors,  imperfect  in  some  of  their  parts." 
Then  turning  to  Willie,  he  said: 

"Willie,  ynW  you  please  turn  to  that 
part  of  the  Bible  about  which  we  are  to 
convei'se  to-day  ?" 

Willie  turned  to  the  sixth  chapter  of 
Matthew,  and  read  the  clause  from  the 
Lord's  Prayer :  ^ 

"  '  Hallowed  be  thy  name.'  " 

"AVhat  does  hallowed  mean?"  asked 
Mr.  Woodman. 

"  Sacred,"  answered  one. 

"  Holy,"  replied  another. 


"HALLOWED    BE   TIIV    NAME."        Ill 

"Reverenced,"  said  a  tliird. 

"  Honored,"  ventured  tlie  fourth. 

"  Yery  well,  children,  you  are  each,  in 
a  measure,  correct.  Hallowed  has  all  the 
various  meanings  which  you  have  given 
it.  When  a  thing  is  set  apart  for  a  holy 
or  religious  use,  the  Scriptures  call  it 
sacred.  Hence  we  are  commanded  to 
'  Hallow  the  Sabbath  day,  to  do  no  work 
therein  ;'  that  is,  to  set  it  apart  for  holy 
uses.  Thus  the  thing  hallowed  becomes 
holy,  because  of  its  being  thus  set  apart  for 
religious  purposes.  Hence,  that  part  of 
the  Jewish  Temple  which  was  set  apart 
for  the  use  of  the  officiating  priests,  and 
in  which  incense  was  dayly  burned,  was 
called  '  the  holy  place;'  and  another  apart- 
ment beyond  it,  where  were  the  '  Mercy 
seat'  and  the  'Cherubim,'  and  into  which 
entered  only  the  high  j^riest,  was  called 
the  '  Holy  of  Holies*' 

'*^ut  when  this  term  is  applied  to  the 
name  of  God,  it  conveys  more  than  a  sin- 
gle idea*  God's  name  is  sacred  and  holy. 
It  is  to  be  reverenced  and  honored  by  all 
his  creatures.    And  even  the  angels  around 


112        VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

his  throne  are  said  to  cry,  as  they  worship, 
'  Holy,  holy,  holy  !'  thus  ascribing  '  honor, 
and  praise,  and  glory,'  unto  the  name  of 
him  who  rules  in  heaven  and  upon 
earth. 

"  So  sacred  was  the  name  of  God  to  the 
Jews  that  they  seldom  pronounced  it; 
and  when  they  did  so,  it  was  always  in 
the  most  solemn  manner.  They  taught 
their  children  to  reverence  this  name,  and 
severe,  indeed,  is  the  punishment  under 
the  Jewish  law  for  using  it  profanely." 
Then,  turning  to  one  of  the  boys.  Uncle 
Henry  asked : 

"  J^athan,  there  is  one  text  in  the  Bible 
which  is  directly  in  point ;  do  you  remem- 
ber it?" 

"Do  3^ou  mean  the  third  command- 
ment?" said  the  boy. 

''  I  do.     Will  you  repeat  it  ?" 

"  '  Thou  shalt  not  take  the  name  of  the 
Lord  th}^  God  in  vain ;  for  the  Lord  will 
not  hold  him  guiltless  that  taketh  his 
name  in  vain,'  "  replied  Nathan. 

"How  long  ago  was  that  command 
given?" 


'* HALLOWED   BE   THY  NAME.''        113 

The  children  were  silent.  'No  one  was 
able  to  answer  this  question. 

"More  than  three  thousand  years,"  re- 
plied Mr.  Woodman.  "  And  yet  it  is  just 
as  binding  upon  us  as  it  was  upon  the 
Jews.  Our  heavenly  Father  did  not  give 
it  to  them  alone,  but  to  the  world.  It  is 
binding  upon  every  person  whenever  and 
wherever  he  may  chance  to  live.  'The 
Lord  will  not  hold  him  guiltless  that 
taketh  his  name  in  vain.' 

"  I  want  to'  explain  to  you,  in  the  first 
place,  how  we  should  hallow  the  name  of 
the  Lord ;  and  then  I  will  give  you  some 
examples,  showing  the  sad  results  of  re- 
fusing to  obey  this  command. 

"We  must  hallow  the  name  of  the  Lord : 

"1.  In  our  thoughts.  Thus  David 
prayed,  '  Unite  my  heart  to.  fear  thy 
name.'  Some  children  think  that,  if  they 
do  not  speak  wrong  words,  they  are,  there- 
fore, good  children.  But  God  does  not 
wait  until  we  speak  before  he  judges;  he 
looks  right  into  our  hearts,  and  sees  our 
thoughts,  even  before  we  have  expressed 
them  in  words. 


114       VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

"  Suppose,  cliildren,  I  should  be  in  some 
pious  company,  and  something  should  oc- 
cur to  irritate  me  greatly.  I  become  very 
angry.  If  I  were  only  alone,  or  with  evil 
companions,  I  sliould  perhaps  express  my 
anger  in  wicked  and  profane  words.  But 
I  fear  to  use  such  words  in  that  company. 
Still  I  keep  thinking  them  over  in  my 
heart,  and  they  burn  there  like  coals  of 
fire.  Do  you  not  think  that  God  could 
see  them  there  ?" 

'•  Yes,  sir,"  was  the  instant  reply. 

"  And  would  he  be  pleased  or  dis- 
pleased ?" 

"Displeased,"  they  replied. 

"  But  I  did  not  say  anything  wicked  ; 
and  perhaps  none  of  those  who  were 
with  me,  knew  that  I  was  angry  in  the 
least." 

"  But  your  thoughts  were  wicked  ;  and 
you  would  have  spoken  wicked  words  if 
you  had  dared  to." 

"And  so  you  think  that  God  is  just  as 
much  displeased  with  wicked  thoughts  as 
he  is  with  wicked  words,  do  you  not  ?" 

"  Yes.  sir." 


"HALLOWED  BE   THY   NAME."       115 

"  But  let  me  suppose  another  ca<e.  Did 
any  of  you  ever  liave  wicked  thoughts 
when  you  were  praying  f 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  answered  some  half  a 
dozen. 

"  Well,  Sarah,"  continued  Henry,  ad- 
dressing Sarah  Stanhope,  whose  restless, 
twinkling  blue  eyes  told  of  the  sportive 
mind  within,  "  will  you  tell  ns  of  an  in- 
stance whei\  you  were  ever  thus  troubled?" 

"  O,  I  am  troubled  so  almost  every  day. 
When  I  kneel  down  at  night  and  try  to 
pray,  it  seems  as  though  everything  I 
have  seen  or  heard  during  the  day  that  is 
real  fuimy,  comes  right  up  before  me.  I. 
try  to  shut  it  out,  and  to  think  of  God  and 
holy  things  ;  but  sometimes  I  find  it  al- 
most impossible  to  do  so.  It  makes  me 
feel  bad,  but  I  can't  help  it,  Mr.  Wood- 
man ;  indeed  I  can't ;  and  yet  I  know  it 
is  wicked." 

"  Do  you  try  to  have  these  thoughts, 
Sarah  ?" 

"  Why,  no,  sir." 

"  And  they  do  not  make  you  happy,  do 
they?" 


116        VOICES   FROM   THE   OLD   ELM. 

"  O,  no,  indeed !  I  sometimes  feel  like 
crying." 

"  Well,  Sarah,  do  yon  really  think  they 
are  yonr  thonghts  ?" 

"  Why,  yes,  I  suppose  they  are.  Whose 
else  could  they  be  ?" 

"  You  do  not  try  to  have  them,  you  say  ?" 
\":N'o,  sir." 

"  And  you  try  to  banish  them  from  your 
mind?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

•'  And  you  pray  for  grace  to  help  you, 
just  as  your  parents  and  Sabbath-school 
teachers  have. told  you  to  do?" 

''  Yes,  sir,  I  try  to." 

"  And  do  they  not  sometimes  go  away  ?" 

"Yes,  sir;  they  did  last  night.  When 
I  tried  to  pray,  before  going  to  bed,  and 
had  said  only  a  few  words,  it  seemed  as 
though  the  prayer  all  went  from  me,  and 
so  many  and  such  idle  thoughts  came 
crowding  into  my  mind  that  I  was  really 
frightened.  Why,  Mr.  Woodman,  it 
seemed  as  if  I  must  speak  right  out  just 
such  silly  words  as  I  heard  Samuel  Jacobs 
use  when  he  got  angry  the  other  day  while 


"HALLOWED   B'E   THY  NAME."        117 

playing  with  the  boys,  and  I  put  my 
hand  over  my  mouth  for  fear  I  should. 
Well,  I  stopped  a  few  moments,  and  then. 
I  asked  the  Lord  to  help  me  drive  these 
wicked  thoughts  away ;  and  just  as  soon, 
as  I  had  done  so,  they  all  left  me  in  a  mo- 
ment, and  I  was  so  happy." 

Thus  spoke  the  little  girl  of  twelve. 
Early  had  she  learned  the  truth  of  those 
cheering  promises,  "  My  grace  is  sufficient 
for  thee  ;"  and,  "Ask  and  receive,  that 
your  joy  be  full." 

Mr.  Woodman  could  not  reply  for  some 
moments.  His  heart  was  too  full  of  the 
joy  which  glistened  in  the  glad  tears  that 
filled  his  eyes.  Precious  seed  was  grow- 
ing in  that  young  hfeart.  Satan  had  been 
vanquished  by  .the  spiritual  weapons  of 
childhood.     At  length  he  said : 

"  Dear  Sarah,  those  were  not  your 
thoughts.  They  came  from  Satan.  He 
was  trying  to  fill  your  little  heart  witli 
evil." 

"  How  do  you  know  they  were  not  my 
own  thoughts,  Mr.  Woodman  ?"  asked  the 
girl. 

8 


118        VOICES  FROM   THE   OLD   ELM. 

"  Because  you  tried  to  banish  them. 
This  is  one  proof.  Had  they  been  your 
own  you  would  have  made  them  welcome, 
and  they  would,  perhaps,  have  remained 
with  you.  Had  you  not  told  tliem  to 
depart,  and  had  you  taken  them  into  your 
heart,  you  would  have  made  them  your 
own  ;  for  you  would  in  that  case  have 
adoioted  them.  Have  any  of  you  read 
'Pilgrim's  Progress?'" 

"  I  have,"  answered  a  dozen  or  more  at 
once. 

"  Robert,  do  you  remember  an  instance 
in  that  book  similar  to  Sai^ah's  experi- 
ence?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  It  was  when  Christian  was 
passing  through  the  Yalley  of  the  Shadow 
of  Death,  and  was  near  the  '  mouth  of 
hell,'  wdrich  Bunyan  tells  us,  *  stood  hard 
by  the  wayside.'  He  says  poor  Christian 
was  so  confounded  tliat  he  did  not  know 
his  own  voice ;  and  when  one  of  the 
wicked  ones  from  the  pit  stepped  softly  up 
behind  him,  and  whispered  horrible  blas- 
phemies in  his  ear,  the  good  man  was 
sadly  troubled,  for  he  thought  they  came 


"HALLOWED   BE  THY  NAME."       119 

from  his  own  hccart.  And  yet,  all  the 
time,  Christian  hated  these  thoughts,  and 
was  deeply  grieved  that  he  should,  as  he 
verily  supposed  he  had  done,  blaspheme 
Him  whom  he  had  before  loved  so 
much." 

''  Our  thoughts,  dear  children,  do  not 
always  come  from  ourselves.  They  are 
often  suggested  by  others.  Satan  is  al- 
ways ready  to  whisper  wickedness  in  our 
-ears.  If  we  at  once  repel  these  whispers 
they  do  us  no  harm  ;  if  we  listen  to  them, 
and  permit  them  to  remain  in  our  hearts, 
they  become  our  own,  and  make  us 
wncked  as  themselves.  Let  me  illustrate 
this  point. 

"Harry  Wyman  was  a  wicked  boy. 
He  would  swear  and  lie,  and  some  said 
he  would  steal.  He  was  also  very  disobe- 
dient to  his  parents.  One  morning  he 
met  Peter  Armstrong  and  Hugli  Arnsbey 
on  their  way  to  school.  Tliey  were  good 
boys,  and  although  the  morning  was  very 
beautiful,  and  the  fields  bright  and  invit- 
ing, the  thought  of  '  playing  truant '  never 
once  entered  their  hearts. 


120        VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

''  Harry  had  a  basket  in  his  hand,  and 
was  going  to  pick  berries. 

"  '  Come,'  said  he  to  the  two  boys,  '  go 
down  into  the  pasture  with  me ;  there  are 
lots  of  strawberries  there,  ISTed  Wilder 
says.' 

"  '  O  no,'  answered  Peter,  '  we  must  go 
to  school.' 

"'Go  to  school!'  replied  Harry,  in 
disdain ;  '  don't  catch  me  in  school 
this  bright  morning.  Come,  let  the 
school  take  care  of  itself,  and  go  with 
me.' 

"  'jSTo,  sir,  that  would  be  playing  truant,' 
again  replied  Peter. 

"'And  what  of  that,  pray?  Hasn't  a 
fellow  a  right  to  go  where  he  pleases  V 

"  'Xot  if  his  parents  don't  give  him  lib- 
erty,' answered  the  brave  boy. 

"  '  Well,  I  mean  to  go  where  I  please. 
I  don't  believe  in  being  shut  up  in  an  old 
school -house  such  mornings  as  this. 
Come,  Hugh,  you  are  not  such  a  fool,  I 
know.' 

"This  he  said  because  Iiq  saw  that 
Hugh  did  not  join  Peter  in  his  refusal  to 


"HALLOWED   BE   THY  NAME."       121 

go,  but  stood  digging  in  the  soft,  warm 
sand  with  liis  little  bare  foot,  as  though 
busily  thinking. 

'"It  wouldn't  be  righl,  would  it, 
Peter?'  replied  the  boy,  half  mus- 
ingly. ^ 

"  '  Right ;  yes,  right  enough,'  replied 
Harry.  '  Come,  it's  real  nice  to  run  in 
the  green  pasture  among  the  butter- 
cups.' 

'"N'o,  Hugh,  don't  you  go,'  answered 
Peter;  Mt's  mean  to  play  truant.  And 
then  your  mother  sent  you  to  school,  and 
you  ought  to  go.' 

"But  the  more  Hugh  thought  of  the 
bright  fields,  and  the  nice,  ripe  strawber- 
ries, the  more  he  wanted  to  go  with  Harr3^ 
And  so  when  Peter  started  upon  the  run 
toward  the  school-house,  fearing  he  should 
be  late,  Hugh  lingered  behind,  and  after 
a  little  more  coaxing  from  Harry,  went 
with  him  to  the  pasture. 

"  Here  you  see  an  illustration  of  my 
point.  Harry  suggested  to  both  Peter 
and  Hugh,  a  thought  which  neither  of 
them  had  had  liefore.      One  put  it  away 


122        VOICES  FROM   THE   OLD   ELM. 

at  once,  and  it  therefore  did  him  no  harm. 
The  other  permitted  it  to  enter  his  heart, 
and  it  made  him  a  disobedient  boy  and  a 
truant. 

"  That  truant  boy  did  not  honor  his 
good,  kind  mother  in  his  thoughts,  for  if 
he  had,  he  would  immediately  have  said 
to  Harry,  '  ISTo,  sir,  I  cannot  go.  Mother 
has  sent  me  to  school,  and  I  must 
obey  her.'  One  thought  of  her  should 
have  been  enough  to  keep  his  heart 
firm  against  all  temptations  to  disobe- 
dience. 

"  Just  so  we  must  hallow  the  name  of 
our  Father  in  heaven  in  our  thoughts. 
We  must  never  permit  one  little  thought 
of  evil  against  him,  or  one  single  desire 
for  disobedience,  or  sinful  indulgence  to 
enter  our  hearts. 

"  But  again.  We  must  hallow  the 
name  of  the  Lord. 

"  2.  In  our  ^vords.  When  we  arise  in 
the  morning,  and  kneel  by  our  bedside,  we 
should  pray,  '  O  Lord,  open  thou  my  lips, 
and  my  mouth  shall  show  forth  thy 
praise.' 


"hallowed  be  thy  name."     123 

''We  hallow  the  name  of  the  Lord  in 
our  words,  when  we  '  take  not  his  name 
in  vain.' 

''That  holy  name  should  never  be  light- 
ly used.  Some  boys  and  girls,  and  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  some  older  people  too,  are 
accustomed  to  introduce  the  name  of  God 
on  many  light  and  foolish  occasions. 
This  is  always  wrong,  and  often  very 
wicked. 

"Again,  some  are  so  thoughtless  and 
wicked  that  they  will  use  God's  name  pro- 
fanely. They  do  not  fear  to  curse  and 
swear.  Wicked  oaths  fall  hourly  from 
their  tongues. 

"  I  have  known  some  boys  even,  who 
would  be  guilty  of  this.  Not  only  when 
they  were  angry,  but  even  in  their  sports, 
they  would  use  the  name  of  the  holy  God 
in  the  most  wicked  and  profane  manner. 
Did  you  ever  know  of  such  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  the  children  answered. 

"Sammy  Jacobs  swears  awfully,"  said 
little  Minnie  Brown. 

"And  so  does  Freddy  Wallace,"  said 
Nellie. 


124        VOICES  FROM   THE   OLD   ELM. 

"And  old  Mr.  Saunders,  who  is  more 
than  eighty  years  old,  father  says,"  re- 
marked Willie. 

"  Yes,  and  he  drinks  rum  too,  and  that 
is  almost  as  bad  as  swearing,  isn't  it, 
nncle  ?"  said  Jennie. 

"  Both  are  bad,  Jennie,  and  very  wick- 
ed.    But  do  any  of  you  swear  ?" 

"1^0,  sir,"  came  quickly  and  decidedly 
from  every  one  present.  They  were  quite 
astonished  that  Uncle  Henry  should  even 
ask  such  a  question. 

"  And  I  hope  you  never  will,  my  dear 
children,"  replied  Mr.  Woodman.  ''But 
I  knew  a  little  boy  once,  who  seemed  just 
as  kind,  and  loving,  and  good  as  any  of 
you,  who  grew  up  a  wicked,  profane  man. 
He  used  to  kneel  by  the  side  of  his  little 
bed  every  morning  and  evening,  when  he 
was  a  boy,  and  pray  to  his  Father  in  heav- 
en just  as  you  do.  But  he  got  into  bad 
company,  and  learned  to  speak  wicked 
words,  and  do  wicked  acts,  until  he  be- 
came, at  last,  a  very  bad  man.  He  forgot 
to  hallow  the  name  of  the  Lord  in  his 
thoughts  and  words,  and  God  did  not  hold 


"HALLOWED   BE   THY  NAME."       125 

him  guiltless.  Children,  never  forget  or 
neglect  to  pray,  for  praying  will  keep  you 
from  sinning. 

"  But  we  must  hallow  the  name  of  the 
Lord  in  our  words,  by  reproving  those  who 
may  use  that  name  in  vain  in  our  hearing. 
If  a  boy  should  speak  lightly  or  wickedly 
of  your  father  in  your  presence,  should  you 
not  reprove  him,  boys?" 

*' Yes,  sir." 

"And  you  would  do  right.  It  would 
be  your  duty  to  defend  the  honor  of  your 
parent.  But  you  have  a  heavenly  Father, 
as  well  as  an  earthly ;  and  it  is  j  ust  as 
much  your  duty  to  defend  the  honor  of 
his  name,  as  to  guard  that  of  your  earthly 
parent. 

"It  may  not  be  best  always  to  do  so  in 
words;  but  sometimes  even  this  will  be 
our  duty.  But  we  should  always  re- 
prove profanity  by  shunning,  as  much  as 
])ossible,  the  swearer.  Never  choose  a 
boy  for  a  companion  who  will  take  God's 
name  in  vain. 

"Sometimes  boys  think  that  it  is  manly 
to  swear;  just  as  lads  with  cigars  in  their 


126        VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

months  seem  to  think  that  smoking  and 
chewing  tobacco  would  make  men  of 
them.  But  every  noble  mind  looks  upon 
profanity  as  a  habit  at  once  mean,  and 
vile,  and  foolish,  and  in  every  way  detest- 
able. Hear  what  some  of  the  greatest 
men  who  have  ever  lived  say  of  it. 

"'Ko  gentleman,'  says  "Washington, 
'will  use  profane  language.  It  is  an  out- 
rage upon  good  manners.  Ko  one  can 
be  called  a  gentleman  who  is  guilty  of 
it.' 

"  General  Washington  would  never  al- 
low it  in  his  army.  In  1757,  while  a  colo- 
nel at  Fort  Cumberland,  when  he  was  but 
a  young  man,  he  issued  an  order  express- 
ing his  'great  displeasure'  at  the  preva- 
lence of  profane  cursing  and  swearing, 
and  threatening  those  who  were  guilty  of 
it  with  severe  punishment.  In  1776,  while 
in  command  of  the  Revolutionary  army, 
he  issued  another  order  against  this  prac- 
tice, in  which  he  speaks  of  it  as  a  'vice  so 
mean  and  low,  without  any  temptation, 
that  every  man  of  sense  and  character 
detests  it' 


«HALL(  Vrr.I)   BE   THY   NAME."       127 

Howard,  the  philanthropist,  also  detest- 
ed this  vice.  Standing  on  the  street  one 
day,  he  heard  some  dreadful  oaths  and 
curses  from  a  public  house  opposite. 
Having  occasion  to  go  across  the  street 
on  business,  he  first  buttoned  up  his 
pocket,  saying  to  a  bystander,  'I  always 
do  this  when  1  hear  men  swear;  as  I  think 
that  any  one  who  can  take  God's  name  in 
vain  will  also  steal,  or  do  anything  else 
that  is  bad.' 

"As  the  celebrated  Dr.  Giiford  was  one 
day  showing  the  'British  Museum'  to 
some  strangers,  he  was  much  shocked  by 
the  profane  language  of  a  young  gentle- 
man belonging  to  the  party.  Taking 
down  an  ancient  copy  of  the  Septuagint, 
he  showed  it  to  the  youth,  Avho  ex- 
claimed, '  O,  I  can  read  this!' 

"'Then,'  said  the  doctor,  'read  that 
passage,'  pointing  to  the  third  command- 
ment. 

"The  reproof  went  home  to  his  con- 
science, and  he  ceased  from  swearing. 

"A  clergyman  was  once  walking  upon 
the  wharf,  where  a  fishing-boat  lay;  and, 


128        VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

as  he  was  passing  and  repassing,  the 
master  was  uttering  the  most  shocking 
oaths.  At  length,  the  clergyman  turned 
to  the  fisherman,  and,  standing  beside  his 
boat,  said : 

" '  Sir,  1  am  unacquainted  with  your 
business.     What  kind  offish  are  these?' 

"He  replied,  'They  are  cod-fish.' 

" '  How  long  are  you  usually  out  in  or- 
der to  obtain  your  loads  V 

"'Two  or  three  weeks,'  was  the  answer. 

'•' Atwhat  price  do  j^ou  sell  them?' 

"  The  fisherman  informed  him. 

"'Well,  have  you  not  hard  work  to  ob- 
tain a  living  in  this  way?' 

" '  Yes,  hard  work,'  was  the  reply. 

"'With  what  do  you  bait  these  fish^' 

"  '  With  clams,  sir.' 

"'Do  vou  ever  catch  mackerel?' 

"'Yesl' 

" '  I  suppose  you  bait  them  with  clams 
too.'  ^  • 

"'O,  no!'  said  he;  'they  will  never 
bite  at  clams.' 

"'Then  you  must  have  diflferent  kinds 
of  bait  for  dififerent  sorts  of  fish.' 


"HALLOWED  BE  THY   NAME/'      129 

"^Well,  now,  did  you  ever  catch  a  fish 
without  a  bait?' 

"'Yes,'  he  repHed.  'I  was  out  last 
year;  and  one  day,  when  I  was  fixing 
my  line,  my  hook  fell  into  the  water,  and 
the  fool  took  hold  of  it,  and  I  drew  him 
in.' 

"'Now,  sir,'  the  clergyman  replied,  'I 
have  often  thought  that  Satan  was  very 
much  like  a  fisherman.  He  always  baits 
his  hook  with  that  kind  of  bait  which  the 
difi'erent  sorts  of  sinners  like  best;  but 
when  he  would  catch  a  profane  swearer 
he  does  not  take  the  trouble  to  put  on 
any  bait  at  all,  for  he  bites  at  the  bare 
hook.' 

"  The  fisherman  was  silent.  His  coun- 
tenance was  solemn ;  and  after  a  moment's 
pause,  as  the  clergyman  turned  to  go  away, 
he  heard  him  say  to  one  of  his  companions, 
'  I  guess  that's  a  minister.' 

"But,  children,"  continued  Uncle  Hen- 
r}^,  "I  promised  to  give  you  some  in- 
stances of  the  sad  results  of  refusing  to 
obey  this  commandment.     The  first  which 


130        VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

I  mention  is  found  recorded  in  the  twenty- 
fourth  chapter  of  Leviticus.  It  is  as  fol- 
lows: 

"  The  son  of  an  Israelitish  \yoman,  whose 
father  was  an  Egj'ptian,  and  probably  an 
idolater,  went  out  among  the  children  of 
Israel,  and  he  soon  got  into  a  quarrel  with 
one  of  the  men.  Probably  he  became 
angry,  and  in  his  madness  he  '  blas- 
phemed the  name  of  the  Lord,  and 
cursed:'  just  as  many  do  at  the  present 
day.  When  the  people  heard  this  young 
man  cursing  and  swearing,  they  seized 
him,  and  brought  him  unto  Moses,  their 
judge.  Then  he  was  put  into  prison,  that 
Moses  might  inquire  of  the  Lord  what  he 
should  do  with  the  criminal.  Now  hear 
what  God  said:  'And  the  Lord  spake 
unto  Moses,  saying.  Bring  forth  him  that 
hath  cursed  without  the  camp,  and  let  all 
that  heard  him  lay  their  hands  upon  his 
head,  and  let  all  the  congregation  stone 
him.' 

"  And  it  was  done  as  God  commanded. 
Then,  for  fear  the  Jews  should  forget  the 
lesson,  the  Lord  said  unto  Moses,  'And 


"HALLOWED   BE   THY  NAME."       131 

thou  shalt  speak  unto  the  cliildren  of 
Israel,  saying,  Whosoever  curseth  ]iis 
God,  sliall  bear  his  sin.  And  he  that 
hhispliemeth  the  name  of  the  Lord,  lie 
shall  surely  be  put  to  death,  and  all  the 
congregation  shall  certainly  stone  him.' 

"This  was  'our  Father's'  command 
many  hundred  years  ago.  He  has  not 
changed.  And  although  men  are  not 
stoned  to  death  in  these  days  for  blas- 
pheming and  swearing  profanely,  as  they 
were  among  the  Jew^s,  it  is  just  as  true 
now  as  then,  that  '  lie  will  not  hold  him 
guiltless  that  taketh  his  name  in  vain.' 

"I  have  heard  of  a  young  ma%-^'ho 
had  contracted  the  wicked  habit  of  catling 
upon  God  to  curse  his  eyes,  if  things  were 
not  as  he  represented  them,  when  he 
wished  to  make  his  associates  credit  what 
he  was  saying.  Well,  in  time  his  eyes 
began  to  be  cursed  in  reality.  His  sight 
grew  poor,  and  nothing  that  physicians 
could  do  made  it  any  better.  At  last  he 
.l)e4L-ame  blind,  and  ever  after  groped  his 
way  in  darkness ! 

"Between  eleven   and   twelve    in   the 


132       VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

forenoon  of  August  4,  1796,  a  violent 
storm  of  thunder  and  lightning  arose  in 
the  district  of  Montpellier,  in  France. 
About  a  mile  from  tlie  town  a  body  of 
nine  hundred  French  soldiers  lay  encamp- 
ed. At  a  small  distance  from  the  camp, 
five  of  the  soldiers  were  assisting  a  farmer 
in  gathering  in  the  produce  of  the  earth. 
When  the  storm  came  on,  the  whole  party- 
took  refuge  under  a  tree.  The  five  sol- 
diers began  to  blaspheme  God  for  inter- 
rupting them  in  their  labors ;  and  one  of 
tliem,  in  the  madness  of  his  presumption, 
took  up  his  gun,  which  he  happened  to 
have  b^  him,  and,  pointing  it  toward  the 
skies,  said  he  would  fire  a  bullet  at  Him 
who  sent  the  storm.  Seized  with  horror 
at  this  blasphemous  declaration,  the  farm- 
er made  all  haste  to  quit  their  company ; 
but  scarcely  had  he  got  the  distance  of 
ten  paces  from  the  tree,  when  a  flash  of 
lightning  struck  four  of  the  soldiers  dead, 
and  wounded  the  fifth  in  such  a  manner 
that  his  life  was  despaired  of 

"  I  saw  an  account,  the  other  day,  of  a 
little  boy  only  six  years  old,  who  died 


"hallowed  be  thy  name."     133 

nsing  the  most  awful  oaths.  He  cursed 
his  father  and  mother,  and  his  little  heart 
seemed  full  of  evil.  The  mother  of  the 
little  boy  was  a  pious  woman,  but  his 
father  was  a  poor,  wicked,  intemperate 
man ;  and  he  taught  his  son  to  swear  as 
soon  as  the  little  fellow  could  speak." 

Deeply  serious  were  the  faces  of  the 
children  as  Uncle  Henry  closed  these 
earnest  remarks.  They  had  nev^er  been 
so  fully  impressed  as  now,  of  the  solemn 
import  of  those  words  which  they  had 
used  so  many  times  in  prayer.  Earnestly 
did  they  resolve  never  to  profane  the 
name  of  their  heavenly  Father. 

It  was  later  than  usual  when  Mr.  Wood- 
man and  the  children  left  the  Old  Elm, 
and  the  boys  and  girls,  wishing  each  other 
a  cheerful  "  good-night,"  hastened  to  their 
respective  homes. 


134       VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

CHAPTEE  YIL 

THE    POCKET-BOOK. 

On  Monday  afternoon  Willie  and 
Charles  had  liberty  to  go  over  and 
spend  a  few  houre  with  their  friend 
Kobert.  They  had  a  fine  time;  and 
when  Robert's  mother  came  oat,  at  five 
o'clock,  to  call  them  to  tea,  they  could 
hardly  believe  it  was  so  late. 

After  tea  they  went  out  and  had  anoth- 
er good  swing  under  a  sturdy  old  oak. 
w^hich  grew  in  the  pasture  a  f^w  rods 
from  the  house.  Then  the  two  boys  start- 
ed for  home,  and  Robert  went  with  them 
as  far  as  the  bridge  across  the  brook. 
Here  they  parted,  and  Robert,  bidding 
them  good-night,  returned  to  his  home. 

They  had  not  gone  far,  after  parting 
with  Robert,  before  Willie  saw  something 
glistening  in  the  road  a  few  rods  aliead  of 
them,  and  running  to  pick  it  up,  found  it 
to  be   a   lady's   porte-monnaie,   or  small 


THE   POCKET-BOOK.  135 

pocket-book,  set  with  pearl.  It  was  this 
that  had  caused  it  to  glisten  in  the  rays 
of  the  setting  sun. 

The  boys  were  overjoyed  at  their  for- 
tune. They  sat  down  on  the  grass  and 
opened  the  clasp  of  the  pocket-book,  and 
when  they  saw  the  roll  of  bank-bills, 
and  the  shining  gold  pieces  which  it  con- 
tained, Charles  fairly  clapped  his  hands 
for  joy. 

They  closed  the  clasp  again,  and  hast- 
ened home  as  fast  as  their  little  feet  could 
carry  them ;  and  all  out  of  breath  with 
their  long  run,  came  bounding  into  the 
parlor  where  their  uncle  was  seated  with 
his  sister,  exclaiming : 

"  0,  uncle !  you  can't  guess  what  we 
have, found.  Just  look!"  and  AVillie  held 
out  the  prize. 

Uncle  Henry  took  the  pocket-book  from 
Willie,  while  the  mother  came  and  seated 
herself  by  his  side  on  the  sofa.  He  did 
not  seem  half  so  much  astonished  as  the 
boys  expected  he  would  be,  nor  Willie's 
mother  either;  Willie  was  almost  vexed 
with  them  for  their  coolness. 


136       VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

"Really,  you  have  found  quite  a  prize," 
said  Uncle  Henr}-,  as  he  turned  the  pock- 
et-book over  and  looked  at  both  sides. 

"  Yes ;  and  there  is  ever  so  much  money 
in  it.  Just  see,  mother !"  cried  the  excited 
boy,  as  Henry  opened  the  clasp  and  dis- 
played the  precious  contents.  "Hurra! 
I  can  have  my  pony  now." 

Just  then,  Jennie,  who  had  been  out 
feeding  the  chickens  and  rabbits,  hearing 
the  wild  shout  of  the  boys,  came  running 
into  the  parlor,  dish  and  spoon  in  hand. 

"  O,  coz !  just  see  what  Willie  has 
found,"  cried  Charles,  pointing  to  the 
pocket-book  lying  on  the  uncle's  knee, 
and  the  gold  and  roll  of  bills  which  he 
was  holding  in  his  hand. 

"  O,  my  !"  exclaimed  the  astonished  girl, 
"  what  lots  of  money.  Whose  is  it,  Wil- 
lie?" 

"  Mine,"  answered  the  brother,  thrust- 
ing his  hands  into  his  pocket  and  straight- 
ening himself  up. 

"What  will  you  do  with  it?  Why, 
you'll  be  as  rich  almost  as  Squire  Mason, 
won't  you,  Willie?"  said  Jennie. 


WILLIE    AND     THE     POCKET-BOOK. 


THE   POCKET-BOOK.  139 

"Do  with  it?"  repeated  Willie,  looking 
quite  lofty.  ''I  will  buy  a  horse  and  Ijug- 
gy,  and — and — lots  of  things,  sissy." 

"  O,  good  !"  cried  the  girl,  clapping  her 
hands  in  glee ;  "  and  you'll  let  nrie  ride, 
won't  you,  Willie?" 

"Yes,  you  may  ride  sometimes,  and 
mother  too,  and  Uncle  Henry,  and  father," 
replied  the  brother. 

All  this  time  Uncle  Henry  had  been 
counting  over  the  money,  while  his  sister 
sat  by  his  side  looking  on.  He  found 
there  was  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  in 
bills,  and  twenty  dollars  in  gold.  Then 
he  examined  to  see  if  he  could  find  any 
papers  in  any  part  of  the  pocket-book  by 
which  he  could  learn  who  was  the  loser; 
but  he  found  none. 

He  had  just  finished  as  Willie  was 
niaking  that  grand  fiourish  about  his  fu- 
ture plans,  in  which  "  mother,  and  Uncle 
Henry,  and  father"  were  kindly  permitted 
to  occupy  so  favorable  a  position.  He 
could  scarcely  help  smiling  as  he  saw 
the  effect  which  the  sudden  vision  of  so 
much  wealth  produced  upon  the  mind  of 


140        VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

the  fanciful  boy.  Willie's  mother  saw  it 
too,  and  it  awakened  painful  feelings  in 
lier  heart. 

"And  so,  Willie,  yon  mean  to  have  a 
pony,  do  you  ?"  said  Uncle  Henr3^ 

"Yes,  uncle,  and  a  buggy  too.  Won't 
it  be  nice  ?"  replied  Willie. 

"  Yes,  Willie,  a  fine  dapple  gray  pony 
and  carriage  would  certainly  be  very 
agreeable ;  and,  as  you  have  kindly  prom- 
ised to  give  your  parents  and  my  humble 
self  a  bit  of  a  ride  now  and  then,  really  it 
would  seem  ungrateful  in  us  to  complain. 
But  do  you  really  think  this  money  is 
yours  ?" 

"Why,  yes,  uncle;  I  found  it." 

"  Whose  was  it  before  you  found  it  ?" 

"  I  don't  know." 

"Do  you  think  it  belonged  to  any- 
body?" 

"  Why,  to  be  sure  it  did ;  somebody 
must  have  lost  it." 

"And  after  the  lady,  or  whoever  the 
loser  might  be,  dropped  it,  I  suppose  it 
was  no  longer  hers  ?" 

Willie  was  silent.     He  had  found  the 


•  THE   POCKET-BOOK.  141 

money,  and  never  once  doubted  but  it 
was  therefore  his.  He  began,  however, 
to  have  some  scruples  upon  that  point, 
and  his  visions  of  wealth,  which,  a  moment 
before,  were  so  bright,  began  now  to  grow 
dim. 

"Suppose,  boys,  that  Willie  should  buy 
a  pony,  and  after  having  a  good  ride, 
should  turn  him  into  the  pasture  for  the 
night.  In  the  morning  he  wants  to  ride 
again,  and  so  he  takes  the  bridle,  and  runs 
away  to  the  pasture  to  catch  the  pony. 
But  pony  is  not  to  be  found.  He  search- 
es every  nook  and  corner,  but  without 
success.  At  length  he  finds  a  rail  down, 
and  here  are  pony's  tracks  which  he  left 
when  he  jumped  over  into  the  road. 
Pony  has  run  away,  sure  enough. 

"The  search  is  continued,  and  after  a 
number  of  days,  pony  is  heard  from.  He 
is  in  the  stable  of  a  farmer  living^  in  an- 
other town.  Willie  goes  to  the  man  and 
says :  * 

"  *  Mr. ,  I  have  lost  my  horse,  and  a 

gentleman  told  me  that  you  had  found  him 
and  put  him  in  your  stable.    I  have  come  to 


142       VOICES   FKOM   THE   OLD  ELM. 

get  liim,  and  am  willing  to  paj  you  for 
your  trouble  and  expense  in  keeping  him.' 

'' '  What  kind  of  a  horse  was  yours,  my 
little  man  V  asks  the  stranger. 

'' '  O,  he  was  a  beautiful  dapple  gray, 
quite  small,  with  long  switch  tail,  heavy 
mane,  and  as  handsome  as  a  picture,'  you 
reply. 

" '  Well,'  replies  the  man,  ^  I  have  got 
just  such  a  pony  as  you  have  described 
out  in  my  stable,  and  I  have  no  doubt  but 
it  is  the  one  which  you  lost.  But,  my 
l)oy,  I  found  him,  and  therefore  he  is 
mine,  you  see.' 

'* '  Why,  no,'  you  answer,  '  I  bought  that 
])ony  with  my  own  money,  and  I  can 
prove  it;  he  is  mine,  sir.' 

'"  O,  I  do  not  doubt  but  that  you 
bought  him,  and  that  he  was  once  yours ; 
but  then,  you  know,  you  lost  him,  and  I 
have  found  him.  Kow  he  is  mine,  and  I 
mean  to  keep  him.' 

"  Now,  boys,  what  should  you  think  of 
such  a  man  ?" 

"I  should  think  he  was  very  wrong," 
replied  Charles. 


THE  POCKET-BOOK.  143 

"  But  did  he  really  find  the  pony, 
would  it  not  therefore  be  really  his  V 

"ISTo,  sir,"  replied  the  boy. 

''  Why  not?"  asked  Mr.  Woodman. 

"  Because  he  neither  bouglit  it,  nor  was 
it  given  to  him,"  said  Charles. 

"  Then  in  order  to  have  property  right- 
fully belong  to  us,  we  must  either  pay  an 
equivalent  for  it,  or  else  receive  it  as  a 
gift,  you  think  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  I  don't  see  any  other  way," 
Charles  replied. 

All  this  time  Willie  stood,  partly  list- 
ening and  partly  thinking.  He  had  been 
so  elated  at  first  upon  finding  the  pocket- 
•book,  that  he  did  not  stop  to  think  alxnit 
the  right  of  ownership.  He  had  found  it, 
and  never  dreamed  but  it  was  therefore 
his  own.  But  now  he  began  to  see  the 
matter  in  a  different  light.  AYliat  Uncle 
Henry  had  said  about  his  losing  his  pony, 
made  it  very  plain  that  the  pocket-book 
and  the  money  did  not  belong  to  him. 
The  simple  fact  that  he  picked  it  up  in  the 
road,  could  not  give  him  the  right  of  own- 
ership to  the  property,  any  more  than  the 


144        VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

finding  of  the  pony  gave  the  man  a  right 
to  daim  it  as  his  own,  and  to  keep  it  when 
the  real  owner  called  for  it. 

"  Mother,"  said  Willie,  "  I  wish  I  could 
find  the  lady  who  lost  this  money." 

"  What  would  you  do,  my  son,  if  you 
should  find  her?" 

"Lwould  give  it  back  to  her,  with  the 
money  all  in  it.  I  don't  think  I  have  any 
right  to  use  it,"  replied  Willie. 

"  Why,  you  say  you  found  it ;  is  it  not 
therefore  yours,  Willie  ?" 

"]^[o,  mother;  I  don't  think  it  is.  I 
think  it  belongs  to  the  person  who  lost  it, 
and  I  mean  to  return  it  to  her  if  I  can  find 
her." 

"  That  is  right,  my  son,"  replied  the 
mother.  "  The  pocket-book  does  not  be- 
long to  you,  -unless  you  are  unable  to  find 
the  owner.  In  that  case  you  would  have 
a  better  right  to  it  than  any  one  else.  But 
even  then,  should  the  owner  call  for  it, 
after  a  number  of  years  had  passed,  you 
would  be  under  obhgations  to  return  the 
pocket-book  and  its  con  tents,  or  at  least  their 
value,  if  you  had  used  them  as  your  own," 


THE   POCKET-BOOK.  145 

"But  how  can  we  find  the  owner, 
mother  ?" 

"  We  must  advertise  the  pocket-book, 
Willie." 

"So  we  will,  mother!  If  uncle  will 
write  some  notices,  Charles  and  I  will 
carry  them  all  around  and  put  them  up. 
I  will  take  my  little  hammer  and  some 
tacks."  And  Willie's  eyes  sparkled  with 
real  pleasure. 

"  Well,  we  will  see  about  it  to-morrow." 


146        VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 


CHAPTER  Yin. 

HONESTY  THE  BEST  POLICY. 

The  next  morning  Uncle  Henry  wrote 
a  number  of  notices,  heading  them  with 
the  words,  "  Pocket-book  Found  ;"  and 
WilUe  and  Charles  took  them,  and  started 
off  to  put  them  up  in  the  most  public  places. 
They  carried  one  down  to  the  store,  and 
another  to  the  hotel  in  the  village,  and  a 
third  they  put  up  in  the  depot.  They  also 
gave  one  to  the  railroad  conductor,  to 
carry  to  the  next  town,  and  another  to  the 
driver  of  a  stage  which  was  going  in  an- 
other direction. 

Willie's  father,  who  was  a  carpenter, 
and  was  building  a  large  house  in  a  vil- 
lage in  another  part  of  the  town,  also  took 
a  copy  and  posted  it  in  the  store  in  that 
place. 

Two  days  after,  as  Willie  and  Charles 
were  out  in  the  front  yard  at  play,  they 
were  surprised  to  see  a  splendid  carriage, 


HONESTY  THE  BEST  POLICY.        147 

drawn  by  a  span  of  horses,  drive  up  to  the 
gate.  The  boys  came  running  into  the 
house  to  tell  the  news. 

"  I  really  believe,  mother,  the  lady  is 
come  for  the  pocket-book,"  said  Willie. 

*'  Well,  my  son,  perhaps  she  is,"  replied 
his  mother. 

When  the  man  who  drove  the  span  of 
beautiful  grays  had  secured  his  horses,  he 
let  down  the  steps  of  the  carriage,  and  a 
lady,  dressed  very  richly,  alighted,  and 
opening  the  little  gate,  came  up  to  the  cot- 
tage. She  knocked,  and  Willie's  mother 
went  to  the  door. 

"Does  Mr.  Manly  live  here?"  inquired 
the  lady. 

"  He  does,"  replied  Mrs.  Manly  ;  "will 
you  please  to  walk  in  ?" 

"  Thank  you,"  replied  the  lady,  as  she 
followed  Willie's  mother  into  the  parlor. 

"  I  have  come,"  continued  the  stranger, 
after  they  were  seated,  "  to  inquire  after 
a  pocket-book,  which  I  saw  by  an  adver- 
tisement in  another  town  had  been  found 
by  your  little  son." 

"Yes;  Willie  found   a  pocket-book  a 


148        VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

few  days  ago,  and  we  thought  best  to  ad- 
vertise it  at  once.  Have  you  lost  one  ?" 
asked  Mrs.  Manly. 

"  I  have,"  replied  the  lady.  "  I  was 
passing  through  your  town  on  Monday 
last,  and  seeing  some  berries  by  the  road- 
side, left  my  carriage  for  the  purpose  of 
picking  them  ;  and  I  suppose  I  dropped  it 
then.  I  did  not  miss  it  for  half  an  hour 
or  more,  and  when  I  returned  to  the  place, 
it  was  nowhere  to  be  found." 

"About  what  time  in  the  day  was  this, 
madam  ?"  again  asked  Mrs.  Manly. 

"  About  half  past  six  in  the  afternoon," 
replied  the  lady. 

"  Will  you  give  me  a  description  of  the 
book  you  lost  ?" 

"O,  certainly,"  replied  the  lady.  "It 
was  of  red  Turkey  morocco,  with  a  silver 
clasp,  and  set  with  pearl." 

"Do  you  remember  the  amount  of 
money  in  it  when  you  lost  it  ?"  again  in- 
quired Willie's  mother. 

"Not  precisely,"  replied  the  lady;  "but 
as  near  as  I  can  recollect,  there  was  some 
hundred  and   twenty-five  dollars,  or  per- 


HONESTY  THE   BEST   POLICY.        149 

haps  more,  in  bills;  and  abont  twenty 
dollars  in  gold.  Bnt  there  was  a  mark 
upon  the  clas^j  which  probably  you  have 
overlooked,  as  it  cannot  be  seen  very 
distinctly.  If  you  will  examine  it  closely, 
you  will  find  H.  M.  marked  on  the  sil- 
ver clasp,  on  the  under  side,"  rej^lied  the 
lad}'. 

"  Pardon  me,  madam,  for-  being  so  par- 
ticular in  my  inquiries,"  said  Mrs.  Manly, 
by  way  of  apology,  as  she  went  to  a  little 
stand,  and  taking  the  pocket-book  from 
the  drawer,  examined  it  as  directed. 

"  O,  certainly,"  answered  the  stranger, 
"  I  am  wholly  unknown  to  you ;  and  it  is 
but  right  that  you  should  make  me  '  prove 
property,'  as  the  papers  say." 

Mrs.  Manly  found  the  private  mark,  as 
the  lady  suggested.  Though  so  delicately 
engraved  as  to.  be  scarcely  visible  to  the 
naked  eye,  yet  by  close  inspection  she 
could  see  it  very  plainly.  Willie  went  to 
where  she  was  standing  by  the  window, 
and  wished  to  look  at  the  mark  also. 
His  mother  pointed  it  out  to  him ;  and 
he,  too,  saw  the  letters  sure  enough.     Ho 


150        VOICES   FKOM   THE    OLD   ELM. 

wondered  he  had  not  seen  them  before ; 
and  Willie  could  hardly  believe  his  own 
eyes. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  but  the  pocket-book  is 
yours,  madam,''  replied  Willie's  mother, 
as  she  handed  it  to  the  lady  for  her  to  ex- 
amine ;  "and  I  am  very  happy  to  be  able 
to  return  it  to  you." 

"Thank  you,"  the  lady  replied,  as  she 
took  the  pocket-book,  and  examined  it. 
"Yes,  this  is  indeed  mine ;  but  little  did  I 
ever  think  of  seeing  it  again.  Are  these 
your  sons,  Mrs.  Manly  ?"  asked  the  lady, 
looking  at  Willie  and  Charles. 

"That  is  mine,"  replied  the  mother, 
pointing  to  Willie,  "  and  the  other  is  his 
cousin  Charles." 

"  Come  here,  my  dear,"  said  the  lady, 
holding  out  her  hand  to  Willie. 

Willie  went  to  her,  and  she  put  her 
arm  around  him,  and  drew  him  to  her 
side.  Then  she  took  the  bills  from  the 
pocket-book,  and  shutting  it  up  with  the 
gold  still  in  it,  gave  it  to  the  boy,  saying, 

"  I  will  give  you  the  porte-monnaie, 
Master  Willie,  to  remember  me  by;  and 


HONESTY  THE   BEST   POLICY.        151 

the  gold  that  is  in  it  is  a  reward  for 
returning  me  my  property." 

"  O,  no,  ma'am,  I  would  rather  not  take 
it!"  replied  Willie. 

^'Why  not?"  asked  the  lady,  with  a 
look  of  pleasure.  ''Don't  the  porte-mon- 
naie  suit  you  ?" 

"O,  yes,  it  is  beautiful!  but  then,  the 
money  is  not  mine,  you  know." 

"Not  if  I  give  it  to  you?" 

"Well,  but  I  don't  deserve  it.  I  don't 
want  any  pay  for  returning  your  money 
to  you." 

"  AVell,  keep  it,  then,  as  a  present  from 
me,"  said  the  gratified  lady,  kissing  the 
noble  brow  of  the  honest  boy,  and  putting 
the  porte-monnaie  into  his  hand. 

"Thank  you,"  said  Willie,  "you  are 
very  kind.  It  is  a  beautiful  present ;" 
and  the  little  boy's  eyes  sparkled  as  he 
returned  to  a  seat  on  the  sofa  beside  his 
mother. 

Just    then  Uncle    Henry   entered   the 

parlor  by  a  back  door  through  the  kitchen 

and  sitting  room,  leading  little  Jennie  by 

the  hand.     They  had  been   up  into  the 

10 


152       VOICES   FROM  THE    OLD   ELM. 

grove  for  a  walk,  and  had  just  returned  ; 
and  as  the  cottage  was  between  them  and 
the  front  gate,  they  had  not  seen  the  car- 
riage and  horses  standing  there. 

No  sooner  had  Uncle  Henry  entered 
the  room,  and  met  the  eyes  of  the  lady, 
than  they  both  sprang  forward,  and  cor- 
dially grasped  each  other  by  the  hand. 

''"Why,  how  is  this,  Mr.  Woodman?" 
exclaimed  the  lady,  as  she  held  the  young 
n)an  by  the  hand.  ''How  do  I  find  you 
here?" 

"Yery  naturally,  Miss  Martyn.  Let 
me  introduce  you  to  my  onl}'  sister,  Mrs. 
Manly,  of  whom  you  have  heard  me 
speak  so  often."  Then  turning  to  his 
sister,  he  said,  "  Sister,  this  is  Miss  Martyn, 
an  old  and  dear  friend  of  mine." 

"This  indeed  explains  the  mystery," 
replied  Miss  Martyn,  as  she  cordially 
shook  the  sister  by  the  hand.  "I  little 
thought,  while  convei^sing  with  3'ou  here, 
that  you  were  a  relative  of  a  friend^  so* 
highly  prized  as  Mr.  Woodman.  Yoilr 
brother  and  mine  were  class-mates  and 
intimate  friends,  Mi-s.  Manly." 


HONESTY  THE   BEST   POLICY.        153 

A  cordial  invitation  was  given  by 
Henry's  sister,  seconded  by  himself  and 
the  happy  children,  for  Miss  Martyn  to 
stay  to  dinner,  and  it  was  as  frankly  ac- 
cepted. 

She  stepped  to  the  gate,  and  gave 
directions  to  her  "servant,  who  then 
mounted  his  box,  and  the  carriage 
whirled  away  in  the  direction  of  the 
neighboring  hotel,  while  Miss  Martyn 
again  joined  the  friends  in  the  parlor. 


154       VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

CHAPTEK  IX. 

MONEY  AT  INTEREST. 

Miss  Martyn  remained  to  dinner.  She 
and  Henry  had  not  met  before  for  some 
time,  but  during  his  course  in  college  he 
had  often  passed  days,  and  even  weeks, 
at  her  father's  house.  Walter  Martyn, 
the  brother  referred  to  in  the  last  chap- 
ter, was  not  only  a  class-mate  with  Henry 
during  all  his  college  term,  but  for  two 
years  his  room-mate  also. 

Henry  found  young  Martyn,  when  he 
first  became  acquainted  with  him,  a  wild 
and  reckless  youth,  far  more  fond  of  sport 
than  study.  He  was  so  much  given  to 
pleasure,  that  his  parents  had  many  fears 
in  regard  to  his  future.  He  was  an  only 
son,  and  heir  to  great  wealth. 

But  though  rieh^  the  parents  of  Walter 
were  pious.  They  had  dedicated  their 
first-born  to  God  in  baptism,  and  sought 
to  instill  into  his  young  mind  the  princi- 


MONEY  AT   INTEREST.  155 

pies  of  truth  and  virtue.     But,  alas!  evil 
associates  weakened   all   their    influence, 
•  and  well-nigh  wrought  the  complete  ruin 
of  their  darling  boy. 

Walter  was  a  quick  scholar,  and  though 
sadly  wanting  in  application,  could  al- 
wa3's  manage  to  stand  well  in  his  classes. 
In  due  time  he  was  prepared  for  college, 
and  entered  as  a  member  of  the  same  class 
with  Henry  Woodman. 

Yery  soon  the  habits  which  had  been 
formed  in  the  vicious  circles  of  his  own 
neighborhood  began  to  show  themselves 
hfere.  The  faculty  regarded  him  with  a 
jealous  eye,  and  were  more  than  once 
constrained  to  reprove  him  for  his  follies. 

Thus  things  went  on  for  almost  a  year, 
when  the  providence  of  God  overtook 
hinr.  In  company  with  a  few  kindred 
spirits,  he  went  out  early  one  Sabbath 
inorning  to  bathe  in  a  pond,  at  a  little 
distance  from  the  college  grounds.  Tiiis, 
the  rules  of  the  institution  strictly  for- 
bade. 

The  company  had  been  enjoying  them- 
selves  for  some  time,  and  all  but  Walter 


156        VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

liad  left  the  water  and  were  dressing 
themselves  upon  the  shore,  when  his 
piercing  cry  for  help  struck  upon  their 
ears.  They  turned  quickly,  but  Walter, 
who  was  some  rods  away  from  the  shore, 
had  sunk !  In  a  few  moments  he  arose  to 
the  surface,  and  cried  wildly  again  for 
assistance. 

So  completely  powerless  with  fear  were 
his  associates  that  not  one  of  them  moved 
to  liis  rescue.  He  had  risen  for  the  second 
time,  still  shrieking  for  help,  and  was  just 
sinking  again,  when  a  man  rushed  past 
the  stupefied  company  and  dashed  into 
the  water. 

The  individual  who  thus  boldly  and 
timely  came  to  the  rescue  was  Henry 
Woodman.  He  had  been  out  walking 
for  the  purpose  of  pious  meditation  in 
the  quiet  fields,  aud  was  just  returning 
by  a  path  that  led  along  the  shore  of  the 
little  lake,  when  the  cry  of  the  drowning 
man  reached  Jiim.  Dashing  forward  in 
the  dil-ection  of  the  sound,  he  arrived,  as 
we  have  seen,  just  in  season  to  see  Walter 
as  he  was  sinking  for  the  second  time. 


MONEY   AT   INTEREST.  157 

His  quick  eye  took  in  all  at  a  glance; 
and  witliout  stopping  to  ask  questions  he 
threw  himself  into  the  water,  and  made 
all  possible  liaste  to  save  the  unfortunate 
youth. 

Exerting  every  power,  he  reached  the 
spot  where  Walter  had  disappeared  just 
as  the  bubbling  waters  gave  token  that 
he  was  again  rising  to  the  surface.  He 
came  up,  gave  one  faint  ci*y,  gasped,  and 
again  disappeared. 

Henry  had  presence  of  mind  enough  to 
know  that  if  he  would  save  his  friend,  he 
must  so  seize  him  as  to  keep  himself  free 
from  the  grasp  of  the  dying  man.  He, 
therefore,  waited  until  he  was  again  sink- 
ing, and  then  diving  after  him,  seized  him 
by  his  hair. 

Being  a  good  swimmer,  he  did  not  fear 
so  long  as  he  could  keep  himself  free  to 
act;  and  having  now  complete  control  of 
his  man,  he  struck  out  vigorously  for  the 
shore.  It  was  soon  gained ;  and  he  bore 
the  inanimate  form  of  Walter  in  his  strong 
arms,  and  lay  him  upon  the  warm,  soft 
grass. 


158       VOICES  FilOM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

One  of  the  students  was  dispatched  for 
a  blanket,  while  every  exertion  was  used 
to  restore  the  apparently  lifeless  youth. 
But  not  until  the  young  man  returned, 
and  Walter  had  been  carried  to  his  board- 
ing-house, and  the  physician  had  arrived, 
did  signs  of  returnmg  life  gladden  the 
hearts  of  those  who  were  anxiously  watch- 
ing by  his  side. 

From  that  day  Walter  Martyn  was  a 
changed  man.  He  and  Henry  became 
fast  friends ;  and  the  latter  soon  had  the 
liappiness  of  seeing  his  class-mate  stand  at 
the  altar,  and,  renouncing  the  world  with 
its  sinful  pleasures,  give  himself  to  Christ 
and  the  Church. 

Walter's  parents  resided  but  a  few 
miles  from  the  college,  and  many  were 
the  pleasant  Sabbaths,  and,  indeed,  the 
long  weeks  of  vacation,  which  Henry 
passed  in  the  bosom  of  this  Christian 
family.  They  seemed,  indeed,  to  divide 
their  affections  between  their  son  and 
liimself.  And  many  a  dark  cloud  of 
pecuniary  difficulty  was  lifted  from  the  ^ 
lieart  of  the  indigent  student  by  the  ever 


MONEY  AT  INTEREST.  159 

open  purse  of  the  rich  Christian  gen- 
tleman. 

Miss  Martyn  left  in  the  early  part  of 
the  afternoon,  promising  to  call  again 
before  many  days,  as  she  was  passing 
a  few  weeks  with  a  relative  in  the  next 
town. 

When  Willie's  father  returned  that 
evening,  the  children  had  much  to  tell 
him  of  the  events  of  the  day.  Willie 
could  hardly  wait  for  his  father  to  be 
seated,  before  showing  him  the  beautiful 
porte-monnaie  and  shining  little  bits  of 
gold,  all  liis  own,  which  the  good  lady  had 
given  him.  And  Jennie  had  so  much 
to  say  about  the  stranger ;  how  good  she 
was,  and  how  prettily  she  was  dressed,  and 
how  kindly  she  spoke,  and  how  sweetly  she 
smiled,  that  Mr.  Manly  could  scarcely 
lind  time  to  eat  his  supper. 

"  And  don't  you  think,  father,"  said 
Jennie,  "when  she  went  away  she  kissed 
us  all ;  and  she  has  promised  to  come 
again  soon.  O,  she  is  so  good !  I  love 
her  dearly." 

After  tea,  and  when  they  were  all  seated 


160        VOICES   FROM  THE  OLD   ELM. 

in  tlie  sitting-room,  Willie's  father  asked 
him : 

"  What  do  YOU  intend  to  do  with  jour 
money,  Willi eV' 

"Keep  it, father;  wouldn't  you?"  replied 
the  boy. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know.  I  think  I  should 
keep  the  pocket-book,  for  the  sake  of  the 
giver ;  but  it  appears  to  me  I  should 
want  the  money  to  be  earning  me  some- 
thing." 

"  Why,  father,  money  can't  work.  How 
can  my  money  earn  anything?" 

"I  guess  you  don't  understand  money 
matters  very  well,  Willie,"  replied  his 
father.  "  It  is  true  money  cannot  work  ; 
but  it  can  earn  more  money -for  all  that." 

"How,  father?" 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  such  a  thing  as 
interest^  my  son?" 

"  O,  yes,  I  have  ciphered  in  interest  in 
my  arithmetic,"  replied  the  boy. 

"  Well,  now,  suppose  I  should  want  to 
use  one  hundred  dollars,  and  Uncle  Henry 
had  it  in  his  wallet,  and  should  consent  to 
lend  me  the  money  ;  how  much  should  I 


MONEY  AT  INTEREST.  161 

have  to  give  him  for  the  use  of  it  for  one 
year?" 

Willie  thought  a  moment,  and  then 
answered, 

"  Six  dollars,  sir." 

"Right,  Willie.  ]N"ow,  would  not 
Henry's  hundred  dollars  earn  him  six 
dollars?" 

"  O,  yes !  is  that  what  you  mean, 
father?" 

"  Certainly.  Now  can  you  tell  me 
how  much  your  twenty  dollars  in  gold 
would  earn  you  in  a  year  ?" 

"  Will  gold  earn  more  than  other  kinds 
of  money  ?"  asked  Willie. 

"  No,  my  son,"  replied  the  father  smil- 
ing. 

Willie  and  Charles  figured  upon  a  piece 
of  paper  with  a  lead  pencil  for  a  little 
while,  and  then  Willie  said, 

"  One  dollar  and  twenty  cents,  father." 

"That  is  right,  if  you  reckon  the  in- 
terest at  six  per  cent.  But  sometimes  we 
cannot  get  but  five  per  cent.  Can  you 
tell  me  what  it  would  come  to  at  that 


162        VOICES   FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

"  One  dollar,"  answered  Charles,  after  a 
few  moments. 

"  Well,  Willie,  if  you  will  let  me  advise 
yon,  I  can  tell  you  what  I  would  do :  I 
would  put  my  money  into  the  '  Savings 
Bank.' " 

"What  is  that,  father?" 

"It  is  a  place  where  those  who  can 
manage  to  save  something  from  time  to 
time,  place  it  for  safe  keeping.  The  in- 
stitution is  called  a  bank  ;  and  because 
the  money  which  is  put  into  it  is  supposed 
to  be  saved  from  the  dayly  earnings  of 
those  who  deposit  it,  it  is  therefore  called 
a  '  savings  bank.'  The  money  which  is 
thus  deposited  is  loaned  out  to  indf^duals, 
by  those  who  have  the  management  of  the 
bank;  and  each  one  who  has  deposited, 
draws  usually  five  per  cent,  interest  on 
his  money." 

"  But  can't  they  ever  get  their  money 
out  of  the  bank  again  ?"  asked  AVillie. 

"  O,  yes!  they  can  take  it  out  when 
they  please,  b}^  simply  giving  the  directors 
a  few  weeks'  notice  of  their  intention," 
replied  Mr.  Manly. 


MONEY   AT   INTEREST.  163 

"  Will  it  be  perfectly  safe  there,  father  ?" 

'"  I  think  it  will,  Willie ;  and  then,  per- 
haps, you  can  save  something  to  add  to 
it." 

"  Well,  I  guess  I  will  put  my  money 
into  the  bank,  father ;  and  I  mean  to  try 
and  earn  some  more  to  add  to  it." 

"  I  hope  you  will,  my  son." 

And  so  it  was  decided  ;  and  the  next 
day  Mr.  Manly  carried  the  money  to  the 
bank,  and  had  it  duly  deposited,  and  en- 
tered in  a  little  book,  which  he  brought 
back  at  night  to  his  son. 


164        VOICES  FKOM  THE   OLD   ELM. 


CHAPTER  X. 

"  THY  KINGDOM  COME.     THY  WILL  BE  DONE 
ON   EARTH  AS   IT  IS  IN   HEAVEN." 

Friday  was  a  stormy  day ;  and  many 
were  the  fears  of  the  little  ones  at  Rose 
Cottage,  lest  the  morrow  would  be  stormy 
also,  and  that,  consequently,  their  meet- 
ing would  have  to  be  deferred.  But  the 
morrow  came,  and  the  bright  sun  peeped 
into  the  room  where  the  boys  were  sleep- 
ing, and  kissed  their  rosy  cheeks  and  closed 
eyelids,  and  awoke  them  from  their 
dreams.  They  sprang  out  of  bed,  each 
exclaiming  joyfully,  "O,  ij;  is  pleasant; 
I'm  so  glad !" 

While  Willie  and  Charles  v/ere  lying 
awake  the  evening  before,  listening  to  the 
rain  pattering  upon  the  roof  above  their 
little  bed,  and  talking  of  various  things, 
and  wondering  if  it  would  be  pleasant 
on  Saturday,  they  formed  a  plan  for  the 
forenoon  of  the  following  day,  should  it 
be  fine,   with   which   they   were   highly 


"THY   KINGDOM   COME."  165 

delighted.  It  was  nothing  less  than  to 
take  Jennie's  little  wagon  and  go  down 
to  Mr.  Anderson's,  and  get  little  Ella  and 
draw  her  up  to  the  cottage. 

The  little  girl  had  been  mending  quite 
rapidly  for  the  past  week,  and  was  now 
able  to  ride  quite  a  distance,  though  she 
could  not  walk  far.  The  children  were 
very  desirous  of  having  her  present  at 
their  next  meeting. 

When  the  boys  told  Jennie  of  their  plan, 
she  clapped  her  little  hands  for  joy ;  and 
away  the  three  happy  children  ran  to  ask 
mother  and  Uncle  Henry.  The  plan  was 
approved,  and  after  breakfast,  they  started 
off  upon  their  kind  errand. 

Willie  and  Charles  took  hold  of  the  pole 
of  the  carriage,  and  told  Jennie  to  jump  in 
and  they  would  be  her  horses.  So  Jennie 
sat  in  the  little  willow  wagon,  and  the 
happy  boys  sprang  away,  skipping  and 
Iciughing  along,  as  gay  as  any  span  of 
dapple  grays,  and  making  the  little  wheels 
buzz  as  they  rattled  over  the  hard  gravelly 
road. 

They  soon  arrived  at  Mr.  Anderson's, 


166        VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

and  found  Ella  out  among  the  flowers  in 
the  front  yard,  gathering  a  bouquet  for 
her  little  china  vase  on  the  center-table. 
She  was  still  somewhat  pale,  and  lacked 
that  roundness  of  cheek  and  body  which 
she  once  had  ;  but  her  eye  was  as  bright, 
and  her  smile  just  as  sweet  as  ever. 

Ella  was  very  glad  to  see  the  children, 
and  when  they  told  her  their  errand,  she 
was  highly  delighted.  She  had  missed 
the  meetings  very  much,  and  although 
Mr.  Woodman  had  called  often,  and  some 
of  her  mates  had  been  in  to  see  her,  yet 
she  sometimes  felt  lonely.  This  was  more 
than  usually  the  case  on  Saturday  after- 
noons, when  she  knew  the  children  were 
all  so  pleasantly  seated  in  the  Old  Elm, 
listening  to  the  pleasing  instructions  of 
Uncle  Henry. 

Ella's  mother  gave  her  consent  to  the 
plan,  for  she  knew  that  Mrs.  Manly  and 
Mr.  Woodman  would  care  for  her  little 
girl  as  tenderly  as  she  could  herself. 
She  had  confidence,  too,  in  their  discre- 
tion, and  did  not  fear,  therefore,  to  intrust 
her  darling  to  their  care.     And  then  she 


"THY   KINGDOM  COME."  167 

thought  the  ride  on  tliat  pleasant  morning 
and  the  pleasure  of  the  company  would 
do  Ella  good. 

The  little  girl  was  soon  ready,  and  when 
she  was  nicely  seated  in  the  carriage,  they 
started  off,  Willie  and  Charles  acting  the 
part  of  horses  again,  and  Jennie  walking 
by  the  side  of  her  little  friend.  They  did 
not  return  as  fast  as  they  came  for  two 
reasons.  First,  Ella  was  not  yet  strong 
enough  to  bear  the  jolting  of  such  a  rapid 
ride ;  and  then,  Jennie  was  on  foot,  and 
would  not  be  able  to  keep  up  with  them. 
So  they  said  they  would  be  a  span  of  farm 
horses  now,  and  go  v^ery  steadily. 

Uncle  Henry  was  waiting  for  them  at. 
the  gate  when  they  arrived,  and  taking 
Ella  from  the  carriage,  he  kissed  her  bean- 
tiful  cheek,  and  carried  her  in  his  arms 
hi  to  the  cottage,  followed  by  the  delighted 
trio.  Then  Willie's  mother  untied  the 
white  sun-bonnet  of  the  little  girl,  and 
took  off  the  blue  silk  sack  which  the 
careful  mother  had  thrown  over  her, 
and  making  a  little  bed  on  the  sofa, 
with  a  couple  of  pillows,  told  Ella  she 
11 


168        VOICES  FllOM  THE  OLD   ELM. 

had  better  lie  down  and  rest  a  little 
while. 

Kever  were  children  mare  delighted 
than  Willie,  Charles,  and  Jennie.  Uncle 
Henrj  sat  and  watched  their  many  efforts 
to  please  their  little  guest,  and  earnestly 
did  he  pray  that  their  hearts  might 
ever  remain  as  full  of  love  as  they  now 
were. 

,  At  the  appointed  time,  the  boys  and 
girls  began  to  gather  from  their  ^various 
homes,  and  soon  all  were  snugly  seated  in 
their  little  sanctuary  in  the  Old  Elm. 
How  delightful  it  seemed  to  the  pure 
spirited  Ella  to  be  there,  and  how  happy 
the  children  all  were  to  see  her  once  more 
in  their  midst. 

Heartfelt  were  the  thanksgivings  which 
Uncle  Henry  offered  to  his  Father  in 
heaven,  for  the  mercies  of  the  past  and 
the  blessings  of  the  present ;  and  when  he 
offered  his  praises  for  the  recovery  of  the 
little  girl,  every  young  heart  in  that  de- 
vout circle  earnestly  responded  to  the  sen- 
timent. 

After  they  had  sung  and  prayed,  and 


"THY   KINGDOM   COME."  169 

each  had  become  quietly  seated,  Mr. 
Woodman  commenced. 

"  Our  Father  is  very  good  to  us,  dear 
children,  in  permitting  us  all  to  meet  here 
again.  We  ought  to  feel  very  grateful, 
and  I  trust  we  do.  Charles,  will  you 
please  read  the  subject  for  to-day?" 

Charles  opened  his  Bible  and  read : 

"  TJiy  hingdom  corned'' 

"  Read  the  next  clause  also,  if  you 
please,*^'  said  Henry. 

"  Thy  will  he  done  in  earth  as  it  is  in 
heaven^''  read  Charles  as  desired. 

"We  will  take  the  two  clauses  as  the 
subject  of  our  present  conversation.  And 
how  many  times  is  this  prayer  uttered 
upon  the  earth.  Almost  every  one  in 
Christian  lands,  who  prays  to  God  at  all, 
uses  these  words.  'Thy  kingdom  come' 
is  uttered  by  ministers  and  people  in  the 
house  of  God;  by  parents  and  children 
around  the  family  altar,  and  by  thousands 
of  individuals  in  their  closets.  And  yet,  I 
fear,  there  are  many  professing  Chris- 
tians even,  who  do  not  understand  what 
it  means.     Can  you  tell  me,  children?" 


170        VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

They  conld  not.  Certainly  they  had 
uttered  the  words  many  times  in  their 
morning  and  evening  prayei-s,  but  what 
they  really  meant  was  a  question  which 
they  had  never  before  been  asked.  They 
were  sure  they  ought  to  know,  but  they 
did  not. 

"  Well,  children,  I  will  try  to  tell  you," 
said  Henry.  "  The  '  kingdom  of  God '  is 
a  term  frequently  found  in  the  Scriptures. 
It  seems  to  have  three  significations.  It 
is  used  to  express  the  government  of  God 
over  the  universe,  over  his  Church  on 
earth,  and  over  heaven  above.  These  are 
often  called  the  kingdom  of  providence, 
the  kingdom  of  grace,  and  the  kingdom 
of  glory. 

"  By  the  kingdom  of  p7'ovidence  is 
meant  the  rule  of  the  Creator  over  all  that 
be  has  created.  He  has  made  the 
worl-ds,  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  the  earth, 
and  all  that  is  on  it,  and  he  takes  care 
of  them  all,  so  that  '  not  a  sparrow  fall- 
etli  to  the  ground  without  his  notice.' 
This  we  call  providence.  Do  you  under- 
stand?" 


"THY  KINGDOM  COME."  171 

"  Yes,  sir,"  they  replied. 

"By  the  kingdom  of  grace  we  mean  the 
government  of  God  over  his  Church  on 
earth.  But,  children,  how  does  God  gov- 
ern liis  Church,  by  force,  or  by  love  ?" 

"  By  love,"  was  quickly  responded. 

"And  if  God  governs  by  love,  where 
must  be  the  seat  of  his  government  ?" 

"  In  the  heart,"  timidly  answered  Rob- 
ert, after  a  long  pause. 

"  "Why  so  ?"  asked  Henry. 

"  Because  we  love  with  our  hearts,  do 
we  not,  Mr.  Woodman  ?" 

"A  very  good  reason,  Robert,  and  a 
correct  one  too.  Can  any  one  give  us 
Scripture  to  prove  this  ?" 

The  children  thought  for  some  mo- 
ments, but  no  text  which  they  deemed 
suitable  suggested  itself. 

"  Turn,  Susan,  if  you  please,  to  Jere- 
miah xxxi,  33,  and  read  that  verse." 

Susan  found  the  place  in  her  Bible,  and 
read  : 

" '  But  this  shall  be  the  covenant  that  I 
will  make  with  the  house  of  Israel :  After 
those  days,  saith  the  Lord,  I  will  put  my 


172        VOICES   FROM   THE   OLD   ELM. 

law  in  their  inward  parts,  and  write  it 
in  their  liearts ;  and  I  will  be  their  God, 
and  they  shall  be  my  people.'  " 

"  The  same  words  are  repeated  in  Paul's 
letter  to  the  Hebrews,  (viii,  10,)  and  Clirist 
himself  said  on  one  occasion,  '  Behold,  the 
kingdom  of  God  is  within  you  !'  Thus  you 
see  that  the  reign  of  God  in  the  kingdom 
of  his  grace  on  earth  must  be  in  the  hearts 
of  his  people.  We  shall  have  more  to  say 
about  this  after  a  little  while. 

"By  the  kingdom  of  glory  we  mean 
the  government  of  God  in  heaven  over  his 
angels  and  the  glorified  saints. 

"  But  it  is  in  regard  to  the  kingdom  of 
grace  that  we  are  to  feel  the  deepest  con- 
cern. Our  Father  in  heaven  will  govern 
the  world  without  our  care.  He  will  also 
govern  his  angels  and  glorified  saints.  But 
he  cannot  reign  in  our  hearts  unless  we 
permit  him  to  '  write  his  laws '  there, 
and  there  erect  his  throne.  When,  then, 
we  pray,  'Thy  kingdom  come,'  what  do 
we  mean  ?" 

"  That  God  may  rule  in  the  hearts  of 
men,"  answered  Willie. 


"THY  KINGDOM   COME.''  173 

"  True,  Willie  ;  but  do  you  believe  that 
the  time  will  ever  come  when  God  will 
reign  in  the  hearts  of  all  men  ?"  asked  Mr. 
AVoodman. 

•'  I  do,"  said  Charles. 

'^  So  do  I,"  "and  I,"  "and  I,"  chimed 
in  half  of  the  company. 

"  And  what  makes  vou  believe  it,  chil- 
dren?" 

"  Why,  because  God  has  promised  it," 
again  answered  Charles. 

"Well,  give  us  the  proof,"  replied  Henry. 

Charles  turned  to  the  second  Psalm,  and 
read  :  "^Ask  of  me,  and  I  shall  give  thee 
the  heathen  for  thine  inheritance,  and  the 
uttermost  parts  of  the  earth  for  thy  pos- 
session.' " 

"  Can  you  think  of  any  other  ?" 

" '  They  shall  not  teach  every  man  his 
neighbor,  and  every  man  his  brother,  say- 
ing. Know  the  Lord,  for  all  shall  know 
me,  from  the  least  to  the  greatest,'"  an- 
»swered  Jennie. 

" '  All  the  ends  of  the  earth  shall  re- 
member and  turn  unto  tlicLord,  and  all  the 
kindreds  of  nations  sluxll  worship  before 


174        VOICES   FKOM   THE   OLD  ELM. 

thee,'"  read  Robert,  liaviiig  found  the  pas- 
sage in  the  Psalms. 

"  Yes,  children,  these,  and  many  other 
texts  which  we  might  quote,  had  we  time, 
go  to  prove  most  surely  that  the  kingdom 
of  grace  will  triumph  in  the  earth.  God 
will  'bring  his  sons  from  far,  and  his 
daughters  from  the  ends  of  the  earth.' 

"  Whether  every  individual  will  be  a 
Christian  in  that  day,  and  really  have 
Christ's  kingdom  set  up  in  his  Jieait  or 
not,  is  a  question  about  which  many  wise 
men  have  long  contended.  But  this  cer- 
tainly is  clear  :  God  has  promised  that  the 
Gospel  shall  be  preached  to  every  creat- 
nre,  and  that  '  holiness  shall  fill  the  lands.' 
Many  good,  great,  and  wise  men,  how- 
ever, do  believe  that  the  time  will  come, 
when  every  person  who  is  then  living 
npon  the  earth  will  be  a  true  Christian, 
loving  and  serving  God  with  the  whole 
heart. 

"We  have  spoken  of  the  kingdom. 
Now,  children,  suppose  you  were  a  king, 
w^hat  should  you  expect  your  subjects  to 
do?" 


''THY    KINGDOM   COME."  175 

"  Obey  me,"  said  one. 

*'  Love  me,"  replied  anotlier. 

*'  Honor  me,"  added  a  third. 

"  Seek  my  interests,"  answered  a 
fourth. 

"  Fight  for  me,"  said  Kobert. 

And  so  the  answers  ran,  each  one 
having  some  idea  of  the  duty  of  a  sub- 
ject. 

"  What  do  you  think  the  Saviour  means  . 
when  he  bids  us  pray,  'Thy  will  be  done 
on  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven?'"  asked  Mr. 
Woodman. 

"  Does  he  mean  that  men  should  be  as 
obedient  as  the  angels  are  ?"  asked  one. 

"I  suppose  it  does,"  replied  Henry. 
"  Men  are  the  only  disobedient  beings  on 
earth,  so  far  as  we  know." 

"  But  caa  we  love  God  as  well  as  the 
angels,  uncle?"  asked  Jennie,  opening 
lier  bright  eyes  wide  in  wonder. 

"  We  can  love  him  with  all  our  heart, 
can  we  not,  Jennie?" 

"Yes,  we  ought  to,"  replied  the  girl; 
''but  that  is  not  as  well  as  the  angels 
do." 


176        VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

'^  Perha])s  man  may  not  love  God  a3 
rnxLch  as  the  spirits  in  heaven  ;  but  if  we 
love  liim  with  all  our  heai%  and  with  all 
our  soul^  and  with  all  o^ir  strength^  I 
tliink  we  shall  delight  to  do  his  will ;  shall 
we  not?" 

"Yes,  uncle,  I  should  think  so,"  replied 
Jennie. 

"  Well,  mv  young  friends,"  said  Uncle 
Henry,  "  we  have  now  learned  four  things 
while  looking  at  this  subject: 

"  1.  That  the  kingdom  here  meant  is 
tlie  kingdom  of  grace. 

'"  2.  That  the  seat  of  this  kingdom  is  in 
the  heart. 

"  3.  That  it  is  designed  to  be  universal. 
."4.  That  it  is  to   be  extended  by  the 
agency  of  men. 

''In  regard  to  the  first,  we  need  say 
nothing  more  at  present.  And  I  think 
the  second  is  also  very  clear;  for  if  the 
king  is  to  reign  in  love,  and  not  by 
force,  then,  surely,  he  must  reign  in  the 
heart. 

"  But  we  ought  to  ask  ourselves  this  ques- 
tion: Is  the  kino-dom  of  God  established 


.     "THY   KINGDOM   COME."  177 

in  our  heart  f  Wliat  do  you  think, 
boys?" 

There  was  no  rej^ly.  It  was  a  question 
too  solemn  for  a  thoughtless  answer. 
Uncle  Henry  then  proposed  the  same 
question  to  the  girls ;  but  they,  too,  were 
silent. 

"How  many  of  you  think  you  icant 
this  kingdom  established  in  your  hearts  ?" 
again  asked  Mr.  Woodman. 

To  this  there  was  a  subdued  response 
from  all  the  children.  Henry  not  only 
marked  the  deeply  solemn  faces  of 
the  interested  group,  but  he  saw  also  a 
tear  in  the  eyes  of  some ;  and  he  knew 
the  Spirit  was  touching  their  young 
lie  arts. 

"If  you  really  desire  to  be  subjects  of 
this  kingdom,  I  think  you  will  have  the 
same  wish  that  little  Emily  had." 

"  What  was  that,  Mr.  Woodman  ?"  ask- 
ed Ella. 

"Emily  and  her  cousin,"  replied  Uncle 
Henry,  "  were  sewing  in  their  little 
room,  one  day,  when  Bessie,  their  cousin, 
began    to    wish,  just  as   children   some- 


178       VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

times  will.  She  wished  she  had  '  curly 
hail* ;'  and  she  wished  she  had  *  a  pony  ;' 
and  she  wished  she  had  '  ever  so  much 
money ;'  and  so  she  continued  wishing 
for  some  time.  Then  she  turned  to  Emily, 
and  asked, 

"'Xow,  Emily,  what  would  you  wish 
for  first?  just  suppose  wishes  would  come 
to  pass.  Think  now,'  she  continued, 
'suppose  you  could  have  your  wish, 
what  would  yours  be  V  " 

"  Emil}^  turned  up  her  sweet,  serious 
face,  and  answered, 

"'A  clean  heart,. Bessie.' 

"Yes,  children,  Emily  was  right.  If 
the  kingdom  of  grace  is  ever  to  be  set  up 
in  our  hearts,  they  must  be  made  clean 
first.  We  must  have  a  heart  renewed 
by  the  Holy  Spirit — a  friendly,  obedient, 
grateful  heart — a  heart  fearing  God,  full 
of  tenderness,  meekness,  and  love. 

"  If  we  are  the  subjects  of  this  kingdom, 
we  shall  obey  our  King;  and  our  King  is" 
Christ.  Hear,  then,  what  he  says:  'If 
ye  love  me,  keep  my  commandments;* 
and  again,  '  If  ye  love  me  ye  will  keep 


"THY  KINGDOM  COME."  179 

my  words.'  We  are  to  show  our  love  hy 
our  obedience ;  wliile,  at  the  same  time, 
our  obedience  is  the  fruit  of  our  love. 
Let  me  explain  this. 

"Suppose  Willie's  mother  should  ask 
him  to  do  something  for  her,  that  he  did 
not  really  like  to  do,  and  would  not  have 
done  if  a  stranger  had  desired  it.  But 
his  mother  says, 

" '  My  son,  if  you  love  me,  you  will  do 
as  I  bid  you.' 

"N'ow,  Willie  does  love  his  mother; 
and  so  he  says  to  himself:  'This  is  not  a 
very  pleasant  job,  but  mother  says  I  shall 
do  it,  if  I  love  her.  I  will  go  right  away 
and  do  it,  then,  because  I  do  love  my 
mother,  and  I  want  to  please  her ;  and  I 
also  wish  to  show  her  that  I  love  her.' 
Do  you  not  see,  children,  that  Willie's 
obedience  is  both  the  proof  of  his  love  for 
his  mother,  and  also  the  fruit  or  result  of 
that  love?" 

"Yes,  sir,  we  see  it,"  they  replied. 

"  You  have  said,  too,  that  this  kingdom 
is  to  be  universal,  and  the  Bible  teaches 
us  that  we  are  to  be  co-workers  with  him  in 


180       VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

the  salvation  of  men.  It  is  God's  design 
that  sinners  should  be  led  to  Christ  by  the 
efforts  of  Christians,  aided  by  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

"But  just  consider,  for  a  moment,  how 
much  is  to  be  done  ;  how  many  are  still  in 
sin.  Not  only  are  there  vast  nations  and 
tribes  of  men  who  have  never  seen  a 
Bible,  or  heard  of  the  Saviour,  but  there 
are  thousands  in  our  very  midst  whose 
hearts  are  strangers  to  grace,  and  ruled 
by  the  powers  of  darkness. 

"There  are  in  the  city  of  New-York 
thousands  of  children  who  never  entered 
a  church  or  a  school  in  their  lives,  and 
who  cannot  read  the  Bible.  Many  of 
them  have  no  home  or  friends.  They 
live  by  petty  stealing,  and  are  seen  in 
dirty  groups  at  the  corners  of  the  streets, 
and  in  the  miserable  rum-cellars.  They 
are  really  heathen  in  the  midst  of  a  Chris- 
tian city. 

"  And  how  many  of  the  same  class  are 
found  in  other  cities  in  this  land?  And 
what  vast  numbers  in  London,  and  Paris, 
and  the  many  splendid  cities  of  the  old 


"THY   KINGDOM   COME."  181 

world.  Men,  women,  and  children,  are 
all  around  us  by  thousands,  who  are  still 
in  the  slavery  of  sin. 

"We,  dear  children,  are  to  labor 'for 
tlieir  salvation.  If  we  love  the  Saviour, 
who  died  for  them  as  well  as  for  us,  we 
shall  do  all  we  can  to  lead  these  lost  ones 
to  Christ." 

"  But,  uncle,  little  folks  like  us  cannot 
do  anything  to  bring  sinners  to  the  Sav- 
iour, can  we?"  Willie  asked. 

"Can  you  not  pray,  AVillie?" 

"Yes,  uncle,  we  can  pray;  but  will 
that  be  working  ?" 

"It  is  one  kind  of  labor,  and,  indeed,  a 
very  important  kind.  It  is  as  much  our 
duty  to  cry,  '  O  Lord,  revive  thy  work  in 
the  midst  of  the  years,  in  the  midst  of  the 
years  make  known  ;  in  wrath  remember 
mercy,'  as  it  is  for  the  minister  to  preach, 
or  Christians  to  exhort  men  to  repent. 

"  Sinners  will  not  be  converted  without 
the  influence  of  the  Spirit.  And  has  not 
the  Saviour  said,  '  If  ye,  being  evil,  know 
how  to  give  good  gifts  unto  your  children, 
how    much    more    shall    your    heavenly 


182       VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

Father  give  the  Holy  Spirit  to  them  that 
ask  liim.'  It  is  God's  will  that  the  Holy 
Spirit  slioiild  be  given  in  answer  to  prayer. 
And  he  will  give  this  Spirit  just  as  readily 
in  answer  to  the  prayer  of  a  child,  if  it  be 
offered  in  faith,  as  in  answer  to  the  suppli- 
cations of  those  who  are  older. 

"  Suppose  a  father  had  a  number  of 
children ;  some  were  grown  to  manhood, 
others  were  of  tender  years.  ISTow,  which 
would  he  most  readily  listen  to,  and  whose 
wants  would  he  be  most  likely  to  satisfy 
first,  the  older  or  the  younger  ?" 

"  The  younger,"  the  children  replied. 

"Doubtless  he  would.  But  our  heav- 
enly Father  can  answer  all  at  the  same 
time.  He  can  supply  your  wants  and 
mine  at  the  same  moment.  And  '  who- 
soever will  ask  in  faith,  shall  receive.' 

"  Certainly,  children,  you  can  pray  for 
sinners.  Xot  only  for  those  immediately 
around  you,  but  for  those  afar  ofi".  Pray 
for  the  poor  heathen ;  pray  for  the  mis- 
sion-^fy ;  pray  for  the  ignorant,  degraded, 
poverty-stricken  thousands  in  our  own 
cities. 


"THY  KINGDOM  COME."  383 

"But  when  you  say,  'Tliy  kingdom 
come;  thy  will  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is 
in  heaven,'  you  must  resolve  to  do  some- 
thing besides  pray." 

"  But  what  can  we  do  ?"  asked  Robert, 
in  a  tone  which  showed  that  he  was  really 
desirous  of  doing  something. 

"  Well,  children,  how  many  have  eaten 
candy  or  sweetmeats  of  any  kind  during 
the  past  week  ?" 

Almost  every  hand  was  up. 

"  Where  did  you  get  it  ?"  again  asked 
Henry. 

"  At  the  store,"  was  answered. 

"  How  much  did  you  pay  for  it  ?" 

Here  there  was  quite  a  variety  of  an- 
swers. Some  liad  expended  but  a  single 
penny,  while  others  had  spent  as  many  as 
three  or  four. 

"  How  many  of  you,  think  you,  buy  such 
things  every  week  ?" 

About  the  same  number  of  hands  were 
raised  as  before.  They  didn't  see,  how- 
ever, what  Mr.  Woodman  wanted  to  ask 
such  questions  for.  They  thought  all 
children  loved  candy,  and  bought  it,  too, 


184        VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

when  thej  could  obtain  pennies  to  buy  it 
with. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  the  missionary- 
cause,  children  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  they  replied  ;  for  they  had 
all  heard  of  it. 

*'  Did  you  ever  know  of  a  collection 
being  taken  for  this  cause?" 

^'O,  yes." 

''  What  did  they  want  with  the  money 
which  they  collected?" 

'^  Why,  they  wanted  it  for  the  mission- 
ary, and  to  buy  Bibles  and  good  books  for 
the  poor  heathen,  to  be  snre.'^ 

^'^  Very  true.  Now  let  us  cipher  a  little. 
There  are  in  the  United  States  fro-mtwo  to 
three  millions  of  Sabbath-school  scholars. 
Say  tv/o  and  a  half  millions.  Now,  if  each 
of  these  scholai-s  should  pay  one  cent  per 
year  into  the  missionary  treasury,  how 
much  would  it  am.ount  to  ?" 

Charles  took  a  pencil  and  paper  from 
his  pocket,  and  after  figuring  a  few  mo- 
mentSy  replied, 

"  Twenty-five  thousand  dollars." 

"Eight,    Charles.      jSTow,    remember. 


"THY   KINGDOM   COME."  185 

this  is  only  taking  one  cent  of  your  candy 
money.  Should  we  increase  it  to  four  it 
would  make  the  very  handsome  sum  of 
one  hundred  thousand  dollars !  And 
where  is  the  boy  or  girl  who  could  not 
save  or  earn  one  cent  in  three  months  for 
sucli  a  purpose?" 

The  children  were  perfectly  amazed. 
They  looked  upon  one  another,  and  seem- 
ed to  be  saying  in  their  hearts,  "  Why, 
how  easy  it  is  to  do  good  ?"  At  length 
Nathan  remarked : 

^'But,  Mr.  Woodman,  very  many  of  the 
scholars  in  the  Sabbath  schools  are  poor, 
very  poor." 

"  I  know  that,  Nathan ;  but  do  you  not 
think  there  are  very  many  also  who  could 
give,  instead  of  one  cent  a  quarter,  a  cent 
every  month  just  as  well  as  not?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  I  think  there  are,"  answered 
Nathan. 

"  Well,  let  us  suppose  that  one  in  every 
ten  of  the  Sabbath-school  scholars  of  the 
land  should  put  into  the  missionary  box 
one  cent  every  month,  what  would  it 
amount  to?" 


186        VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

After  a  little  more  figuring  one  of  the 
boys  answered. 

"Thirty  thousand  dollars,  sir." 

"  I  believe  you  are  right.  And  do  you 
think  this  could  be  done  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  every  one  in  the 
same  breath. 

"  So  do  I,  children.  And  I  think  in  this 
way  even  little  folks  can  do  something. 
What  a  vast  amount  of  good  such  a  sum 
of  money  would  accomplish  I  How  many 
Bibles  it  would  print!  How  many  hearts 
it  would  gladden  which  are  now  sorrowful 
in  darkness  and  sin  I 

"  My  dear  children,  do  not  think  that 
you  cannot  do  anything  for  God ;  anything 
to  hasten  the  day  when  the  will  of  the 
Lord  shall  be  'done  on  earth  as  it  is  in 
heaven.'  There  are  many,  many  ways  in 
which  you  may  work.  Kot  only  by  pray- 
ing and  giving,  but  by  exhibiting  a  Chris- 
tian spirit,  and  doing  those  little  acts, 
which  only  children  can  do. 

"Had  I  time  I  could  tell  you  of  many, 
young  as  are  you,  who  have  been  the 
means  of  leading  great  and  wise  men  to  the 


"THY   KINGDOM   COME."  187 

Saviour.  Ask  God  to  teach  you  how  to 
do  good,  and  he  will  not  refuse.  Your 
little  hands  may  not  be  able  to  break  up 
the  hard  and  fallow  ground,  but  they  can 
scatter  seeds  of  beautiful  flowers,  which 
will  spring  up  and  blossom  to  cheer  the 
heart  of  him  who  labors  to  cultivate  the 
rugged  soil.     Will  you  try  to  do  so  ?" 

"We  will   try,  sir,"  was   the   firm  re- 
sponse. 


188        VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

CHAPTER  XI. 

BEGINNING  TO  WORK. 

Little  Clara  Wiiitlirope  was  a  modest, 
thoiiglitful  girl  of  ten.  Her  mother  was  a 
good  Christian  woman,  and  did  what  she 
could  as  the  mother  of  five  children,  the 
oldest  of  which  was  Clara,  to  train  them 
Tip  in  the  path  of  wisdom  and  virtue. 

But,  alas !  her  husband  was  intemper- 
ate !  Once  a  smart,  active,  intelligent 
man,  and  a  skillful  mechanic,  he  had  de- 
scended step  by  step,  from  his  high  posi- 
tion in  the  esteem  of  the  community,  until 
now  he  was  a  poor,  degraded  outcast! 
Every  cent  he  could  obtain  went  for  rum. 

Nor  was  the  liome  of  the  miserable  man 
ail  exception  to  the  many  of  this  class, 
which  have  been  so  often  described.  Its 
purity  was  polluted  by  his  profane  words, 
and  all  the  kindred  vices  which  usually 
cluster  in  the  heart  of  the  intemperate. 
Hunger  was  no  stranger  at   their  dayly 


BEGINNING  TO   WORK.  189 

board,  and  grim  want  was  ever  looking  in 
at  the  open  door. 

Such  was  the  home  of  the  modest  little 
Clara,  who  had  sat  quietly  among  tlie 
children  in  the  Old  Elm,  and  listened  to 
the  teacliings  of  the  young  clergyman. 

Deeply  serious  and  thoughtful  was  the 
countenance  of  the  child  {is  she  bid  Sarah 
*'  Good-night,"  at  the  entrance  of  the  lane 
which  led  to  her  humble  home,  and  the 
tears  w^elled  up  from  her  feeling  heart, 
and  filled  her  soft  blue  eyes,  and  ran  down 
her  cheeks  as  she  tliought  of  lier  poor 
father.  O,  if  lie  would  leave  off  drinking, 
and  be  as  kind  and  loving  as  he  used  to 
be  when  she  was  a  little,  prattling,  rosy- 
cheeked  child  upon  his  knee,  how  happy 
they  all  should  be ! 

"  I  wish  I  could  do  something  for  dear 
father,"  she  said  aloud,  as  she  w^alked  up 
the  lane  toward  the  house,  "I  mean  to 
pray  for  him  every  night  and  morning !" 
continued  the  girl.  "  O  what  a  good  fother 
he  nsed  to  be  ""before  he — "  became  a 
drunkard !  she  was  going  to  say ;  but 
the    w^ords    seemed    so    awful    that    she 


190        VOICES  FROM   THE   OLD   ELM. 

Stopped  short,  and  with  a  sigh  entered 
the  house. 

Little  did  Clara  think  that  any  one  was 
listening  to  her  earnest  words,  and  observ- 
ing her  tearful  grief ;  and  yet  it  was  true. 
Richard  Winthrope  had  been  lying  for 
hours  beneath  the  fence  by  the  side  of  the 
lane,  sleeping  off  the  effects  of  his  morn- 
ing's debauch.  The  opening  of  the  rick- 
ety gate,  and  the  "  Good-evening"  of  the 
two  girls,  partially  awoke  him,  and  when 
he  heard  the  voice  of  his  little  daughter, 
saying,  "  I  wish  I  could  do  something  for 
dear  father,"  he  was  fully  aroused.  The 
■vi'ords  smote  upon  his  heart.  He  put  aside 
the  green  twigs  "with  his  trembling  hand, 
and  there,  right  before  him,  with  the  tears 
filling  ]ier  beautiful  eyes,  was  his  still 
loving  daughter.  And  when  he  heard  the 
resolve  of  the  little  girl  to  go  with  her 
sorrows,  morning  and  evening,  to  her 
heavenly  Father,  he  trembled,  for  he 
knew  that  he  was  a  prayer-hearing 
God. 

When  the  child  entered  the  house,  the 
poor,  miserable  father  fell  back  again  upon 


BEGINNING  TO  WORK.  191 

the  soft  green  grass,  and  gave  himself  up 
to  thought. 

How  vividly  the  sorrowful  past  came 
up  to  view.  He  thought  of  the  time  when 
he  first  saw  the  beautiful  Helen  Ingalls, 
and  the  subsequent  friendship  whicli  ripen- 
ed at  length  into  mutual  love.  He  thought 
of  his  vows  at  the  marriage  jaltar,  and  the 
sunny  days  which  succeeded,  as  with  his 
happy  wife  he  lived  in  the  beautiful  cot- 
tage which  he  could  then  call  his  own. 
Again  he  pressed  to  his  loving  heart  his 
little  daughter,  his  first-born,  and  kissed 
for  the  first  time  his  own  child!  O,  those 
were  happy  days,  and  scarce  a  cloud  dim- 
med the  brightness  of  his  sky  !  Loved  by 
his  trusting  wife,  respected  by  all  around 
him,  and  prosperous  in  his  business,  what 
more  had  he  to  ask? 

Then  the  mind  of  the  poor  man  ran 
along  the  days,  and  months,  and  years 
which  had  since  gone  by  ;  and  as  a  vivid 
view  of  their  gathering  darkness  and  sor- 
row came  upon  him,  as  the  sad  change 
was  fully  realized,  and  the  great  height 
from  which  he  had  fallen  was  clearly  per- 


192        VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

ceived,  he  covered  his  face  with  his 
hands  and  wept. 

And  wh}^  was  he  thus?  Once,  as  we 
have  said,  he  was  respected  by  all,  loved 
by  many,  and  honored  most  by  those 
who  knew  him  best.  E'ow  be  was,  what 
Clara  had  feared  to  pronounce,  a  poor 
drunkard.  And  why  ?  All  for  his  wick- 
ed, selfish  love  of  rum:  For  this  he  had 
sold  honor,  reputation,  propert}^,  domestic 
comfort,  and  personal  happiness.  And, 
alas!  what  had  he  received  in  return? 
The  thought  was  too  full  of  anguish,  and 
he  groaned  aloud. 

But  in  the  midst  of  this  anguish,  stirred 
in  the  heart  of  the  ruined  man  by  a  glance 
of  the  past,  there  was  one  thought  of  joy, 
one  little  ray  of  hope.  Clara  would  pray 
for  him.  "IN^ight  and  morning,"  his  little, 
pure-minded,  trusting  daughter  would  ask 
God  to  bless  her  poor,  wicked  father. 
The  thought  came  like  a  "beam  of  glad 
sunshine  to  his  darkened  soul,  relieving 
what  otherwise  would  have  been  black 
despair. 

He  again  raised  himself  half  upright, 


BEGINNING  TO   WORK.  193 

and  sat  there,  with  his  face  buried  in  his 
hands,  deeply  lost  in  thought.  The  sun 
went  down  behind  the  western  hills,  and 
his  last  smile  faded  from  the  brow  of  the 
old  mountain  king,  and  the  bright  stars 
came  out  in  the  clear  sky  above,  and 
looked  down  upon  the  poor  degraded 
man  ;  and  still  he  sat  beneath  the  hedge, 
bowed  by  the  heavy  burden  of  his  inde- 
scribable anguish. 

"Fool  and  wretch  that  I  am!"  he  ex- 
claimed, as  he  raised  his  head  from  his 
tear-washed  hands.  "Fool,  to  seek  for 
happiness  in  that  which  is  every  moment 
increasing  my  misery ;  and  wretch,  to 
afflict  and  ruin  the  kindest  of  wives  and 
the  best  of  children.  What  was  I  once? 
what  am  I  now?  But,  thank  God,  1  am  not 
dead.  Heavenly  Father,"  he  cried,  raising 
his  eyes  to  heaven,  "help  me  to  be  a  man, 
a  father,  and  a — "  Christian,  he  was  about 
to  say  ;  but  he  thought  of  his  great  wicked- 
ness, aird  he  dared  not  offer  the  prayer. 

The  poor  man  arose  and  entered  the 
house.  Supi)er  was  awaiting  him,  but  he 
could  not  eat.     lie  looked  upon  the  pale, 


194       VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

care-worn  face  of  his  still  loving  wife ;  and 
read  there  the  sad  doings  of  his  own 
brutish  selfishness.  He  looked  upon  his 
ragged,  hungry  children  ;  and  again  "self- 
ishness" was  whispered  bj  conscience. 
He  caught  the  gaze  of  his  eldest-born  fix- 
ed upon  him,  and  seemed  to  read  in  the 
sad,  earnest  look  of  the  child,  the  prayer 
which  was  struggling  up  from  her  trusting 
heart. 

When  the  Sabbath  came,  Mr.  Win- 
thrope  did  not,  as  was  his  wont,  go  to  the 
tavern,  where  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
meeting  his  boon  companions ;  but  he  took 
his  hat,  and  sauntered  out  into  the  fields. 

It  "was  a  bright  morning,  and  ever}^- 
thing  around  him  seemed  full  of  praise. 
The  birds- were  singing,  the  flowers  were 
smiling,  streamlets  dancing,  insects  chirp- 
ing, and  squirrels  chattering  merrily,  as 
he  wandered  on  through  field,  and  copse, 
and  grove.  God  was  all  around  him. 
Every  bright  flower  seemed  gifted  with 
an  eye  to  see,  and  every  living  thing  with 
instinct  to  read  the  dark,  deep  vileness  of 
his  guilty  heart. 


BEGINNING  TO  WORK.  195 

Tlirowing  himself  on  his  knees  upon  the 
grass,  beneath  a  spreading  tree,  he  prayed. 
He  asked  God  for  strength,  for  power  to 
break  tlie  spell  of  the  charmer.  And  liis 
prayer  was  heard.  Tliere,  bowed  in  spirit, 
feelir.g  deeply  his  gnilt,  conscious  of  his 
weakness,  and  trusting  alone  in  his  heav- 
enly Father  for  aid,  he  resolved  to  reform, 
resolved  to  be  free. 

When  this  resolution  was  once  fully 
formed,  he  seemed  a  new  man.  New 
energy  was  his.  The  long  slumbering 
purposes  of  his  better  nature — all  that  had 
once  distinguished  him  as  a  man  of  pecu- 
liar moral  strength  and  virtuous  decision — 
awoke  in  his  heart.  He  stood  up  erect. 
He  looked  around  upon  nature,  and  a  glad 
smile  seemed  resting,  as  a  beam  of  light, 
upon  every  object.  He  was  indeed  free. 
The  scepter  of  the  cruel  one  was  broken, 
and  his  power  to  hurt  was  spoiled. 

Again  he  fell  upon  his  knees,  and  the 
incense  of  gratitude  arose  from  the  altar 
of  his  aspiring  heart,  wafted  to  heaven  by 
the  glad  breathings  of  joyful  praise.  He 
could  not  refrain  i'rom  praising  God  aloud ; 


196       VOICES   FEOM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

for  such  an  aiis^ver  to  his  prayer,  sucli  a 
mighty  change  as  he  felt  was  wronght  in 
his  nature  by  the  mighty  power  of  God, 
he  had  scarcely  dared  to  hope  for.  It 
seemed  too  much  for  him  to  expect ;  but 
repentance  and  faith,  with  him  as  with 
Paul,  had  accomplished  the  mighty  work. 
Hopeless  indeed  would  be  the  effort  to 
describe  the  happiness  of  that  family, 
when  the  husband  and  father  gathered 
them  about  him,  and  told  what  God  had 
wrought.  Little  Clara  sprang  to  his  arms, 
and,  clasping  his  neck,  lay  pressed  to  liis 
heart.  She  was  too  happy  for  tears,  too 
happy  foi'^vvords  even  ;  but  the  silent 
sympathy  of  her  loving  heart  told  all  its 
wondrous  burden  of  joy,  in  a  language 
which  the  answering  affection  of  the 
father  alone  could  understand. 


"OUR  DAYLY  BREAD/'  197 

CHAPTEE  XII. 

"  GIVE  US  THIS  DAY  OUR  DAYLY  BREAD." 

Another  meeting  in  the  Old  Elm,  with 
a  cloudless  sky  above,  and  beauty  all 
around.  The  children  are  all  there.  Lit- 
tle Ella  has  fully  recovered,  and  can  run 
with  the  merriest  of  the  merry  group.  All 
are  happy ;  but  upon  no  countenance  is 
there  so  much  of  intense  joy,  so  much  of 
deep,  abiding  happiness,  as  upon  that  of 
beautiful,  rosy-cheeked  Clan^  "Winthrope. 
And  w^hy  should  she  not  be  one  of  the 
happiest  girls  living?  Has  not  her  heav- 
enlv  Father  onjven  her  the  one  s^reat  desire 
of  her  heart?  Her  father  is  no  longer  a 
drunkard  !  Morning  and  evening  he  kneels 
at  the  family  altar,  with  his  wife  by  his 
j^ide,  and  his  children  around  him,  and 
nfi'ers  to  God  the  incense  of  praise  and 
thanksgiving.  He  is  a  Christian,  and, 
pressing  his  little  daughter  to  his  heart, 
bays,  "  Clara,  you  have  saved  your  fiither 


198       VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

from  ruin !"  Saved  her  father !  She,  a 
little  girl  of  ten  ! 

Yes,  reader,  it  is  true.  The  prayers 
and  Christian  influence  of  the  little  girl 
had  saved  her  father  from  a  drunkard's 
ffrave  !  Who  can  doubt  it  ?  And  has  not 
Clara  good  reason  to  be  happy  ? 

But  the  good  resulting  from  the  little 
girl's  resolve  to  pray  for  the  conversion  of 
her  father  did  not  stop  there.  Like  every 
other  good  in  this  world,  it  was  progressive. 
Mr.  Winthrope  no  sooner  felt  the  pardon- 
ing love  of  God  in  his  own  soul  than  he 
began  to  speak  of  it  to  others.  It  seemed 
to  impel  him  to  labors  of  mercy ;  and  the 
reformed  man  went  out  among  his  former 
associates  in  wickedness,  and  told  them 
what  God  had  done  for  him. 

Great  w^as  the  commotion  occasioned  by 
this  unlooked-for  event.  Some,  it  is  true, 
ridiculed  the  idea  that  such  a  notorious 
drunkard  as  "Dick  Winthrope"  should 
become  a  Christian,  all  of  a  sudden.  The 
thought  was  absurd  !  Others  were  full  of 
doubts.  They  hoped  the  reformation  would 
prove  genuine,  but  they  liad  their  fears. 


"OUR  DAYLY   BREAD."  199 

If  the  poor  man  could  stand  alone,  with- 
out sympathy,  without  the  aid  of  friends 
or  the  solace  of  kindly  greetings,  why, 
after  a  while,  when  he  had  "  proved  him- 
self sincere,''  these  very  kind  individuals 
would  receive  him  to  their  confidence ! 
But  now,  when  he  needed  their  help  the 
most,  they  had  no  helping  hand  to  offer. 

But,  thank  God,  there  were  others  who 
proved  the  truth  of  their  faith  in  Christ, 
by  imitating  his  divine  example !  Glad 
in  their  hearts  that  a  sinner  was  struggling 
to  be  free,  they  did  not  pause  to  inquire 
what  he  had  been,  but  thought  only  of 
what  he  might  be.  They  gathered  around 
the  penitent  man,  and  gave  him  their 
hands  with  so  much  of  cordial  sympathy, 
that  every  doubt  of  their  sincerity  was 
dispelled  from  his  heart. 

There  were  still  others  to  whom  the 
words  and  spirit  of  the  reformed  man 
came  with  power.  These  were  his  poor 
rum-ruined  associates.  Dick  was  their 
best  man.  His  song  was  the  merriest,  his 
joke  the  keenest,  his  speeches  the  funniest, 
and  his  company  the  most  welcome  of  any 
13 


200       VOICES   FEOM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

who  gathered  in  the  old  bar-room  of  the 
low  tavern,  on  the  long  winter  evenings, 
and  still  longer  Sabbaths.  They  could 
ill  afford  to  lose  so  valuable  a  com- 
panion, and  therefore,  at  their  firet  meet- 
ing after  his  conversion,  they  devised 
measures  to  get  him  back  again  to  their 
circle,  if  possible. 

Eichard  Winthrope,.  however,  remained 
firm.  He  viewed  his  escape  as  little  short 
of  mimculons ;  and  he  knew  well  that  his 
only  hope  was  in  perfect  decision,  and  firm 
trust  in  God.  "When,  therefore,  he  met 
his  former  companions,  as  he  soon  did, 
either  casually  by  the  wayside  or  pur- 
posely at  their  homes,  they  found  him 
firm  i^  his  purposes,  but  with  a  heart  tcto 
full  of  love  to  be  resisted.  His  kind 
words  melted  away  their  hardness,  and 
his  great  happiness  made  their  misery 
seem  all  the  more  dark'  and  fearful  in  the 
contrast.  They  could  not  help  acknowl- 
v 'Iging  that  his  way  of  seeking  enjoyment 
was  far  jiuperior  to  theirs ;  and  in  their 
liearts^hey  honored  him  the  more  for  his 
manly  decision  and  holy  purposes. 


"OUR  DAYLY  BREAD."  201 

The  news  of  the  dmnkard's  convei'sion 
spread  widely,  and  many  were  encouraged 
to  pray  that  it  might  prove  the  beginning 
of  a  gracious  w^ork  in  that  pkice. 

Henry  Woodman  was  liappy.  The  lit- 
tle seeds  which  he  was  so  carefully  and 
prayerfully  planting  in  those  young  hearts 
were  springing  up.  Indeed,  fruit  was  ap- 
pearing. What  encouragement  to  labor ! 
And  as  he  knelt,  with  the  children  again 
around  him,  and  offered  up  a  fervent 
prayer  to  God,  and  asked  for  Divine 
guidance,  the  precious  promise  was  ap- 
plied with  power  to  his  heart :  "  Accord- 
ing to  thy  faith,  be  it  unto  thee ;"  and  he 
claimed  the  promise. 

"Willie,  will  you  read  us  the  subject 
for  conversation  to-day?"  asked  Henry, 
when  they  were  again  seated. 

" '  Give  us  this  day  our  clayly  hread^  " 
answered  Willie,  without  opening  his 
Bible. 

"  Yery  well.  !N"ow  the  first  thing  for 
us  to  do  is  to  fix  the  meaning  of  these 
words.  Our  Saviour  has  taught  us  to 
pray  for  our  dayly  bread ;    but  are  there 


202      VOICES  fro:m  the  old  elm. 

not  other  blessings  equally  as  necessary  as 
bread?" 

"  I  should  think  so,"  answered  JSTathan. 

"Why,  then,  is  the  prayer  for  bread 
only  ?" 

ITone  could  tell.  They  thought  that 
drink  and  raiment,  and  shelter  from  the 
cold  and  storm,  were  just  as  necessary 
as  bread.  Strange  that  they  had  never 
thought  of  this  before  ! 

"  By  '  bread,'  in  this  clause  of  the 
prayer,"  continued  Mr.  Woodman,  "I 
suppose  that  we  are  not  to  undei*stand 
simply  what  we  need  to  eat,  but  all  that 
is  necessary  to  support  life,  whether  it  be 
food  or  drink,  or  any  other  bodily  com- 
fort, without  which  we  should  perish. 
But  as  food,  or  bread,  is  the  greatest  of 
these  wants,  or  that  which  we  feel  the 
soonest  and  most  severely,  it  is  here  made 
to  include  all  the  rest.  When,  therefore, 
we  are  instructed  by  Christ  to  pray  for 
'  dayly  bread,'  we  should  understand  that 
the  word  includes  every  earthly  comfort 
which  our  bodies  need.  Do  you  under- 
stand me?" 


"OUR  DAYLY  BREAD."  203 

"Yes,  sir,"  was  quickly  answered. 

"Well,  then,  if  we  understand  the 
plain  meaning  of  the  words,  the  next 
thing  to  be  considered  is  the  form  of  the 
petition.  Please  listen  attentively  while 
I  repeat  these  words  again  ?" 

The  children  all  listened  while  Mr 
Woodman  repeated,  "Give  us  this  day 
our  dayly  bread." 

"E'ow,  children,  what  is  the  first  idea 
which  you  gain  from  these  words?" 

They  thought  earnestly  for  some  mo- 
ments.    At  length  Robert  timidly  replied : 

"  That  we  are  beggars." 

"You  mean  by  that,  Robert,  I  suppose, 
that  we.  have  nothing  with  which  to  pay 
for  what  we  ask  of  God,"  replied  Uncle 
Henry. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Robert. 

"That  is  true.  Our  prayer  must  be, 
'  Give  us,'  not  sell  to  us,  nor  lend  to  us,  nor 
distribute  to  us,  anything  deserved ;  but 
give  us.  There  is  another  important 
thought  here.     Can  you  point  it  out  ?" 

No  one  was  able  to  do  so,  and  Mr. 
Woodman  continued. 


204        VOICES  FROM   THE   OLD   ELM. 

"It  is  tliis:  This  necessary  good  for 
whicli  we  are  taught  to  pray,  must  be 
sought  dayly.  The  prayer  is, '  Give  us  this 
day  our  dayly  bread.'  This  means  that 
we  must  ask  God  every  day  for  the  bless- 
ings needed  for  the  comfort  of  that  day. 
It  is  not,  give  us  so  many  blessings  to-day, 
that  we  shall  not  have  occasion  to  pray 
for  more  to-morrow ;  but  give  us  dayly. 
Hence  you  learn  that  God  intends  his 
creatures  should  pray  to  him  every  day ; 
that  they  should  never  forget  him.  Can 
you  give  me  an  instance  from  the  Bible 
where  God  has  taught  the  same  great 
truth?" 

"  God  gave  the  manna  fresh  every 
morning,"  said  Charles. 

"  But  wasn't  that  because  it  would  not 
keep  but  one  day?"  asked  E'athan. 
"You  know  that  some  of  the  Israelites 
tried  to  preserve  it  until  the  next  day, 
and  it  spoiled." 

"  How  was  it  on  the  Sabbath  ?  did 
God  send  any  on  that  day?"  asked  Mr. 
Woodman. 

"  ]N  o,  sir ;  but  he  gave  a  double  portion 


"OUR  DAYLY  BREAD."  205 

on  the  sixth  day,  did  he  not,  uncle?"  re- 
plied Willie. 

"  Did  that  which  was  given  on  the 
sixth  day  spoil?" 

"  JS'o,  sir." 

"Why  not,  Willie?" 

"God  kept  it  from  spoiling,  I  sup- 
pose." 

"Yes,  Willie,  you  are  right.  And  he 
could  have  done  the  same  with  the  man- 
na which  was  given  on  the  otlier  days; 
but  he  seems  to  have  chosen  to  keep  his 
people  in  remembrance  of  their  depend- 
ence upon  him.  But  God  had  another 
purpose,  it  appears,  in  giving  this  double 
portion  on  the  sixth  day.  Can  you  tell 
me  what  it  was,  Robert?" 

"He  would  not  have  them  break  the 
Sabbath  by  gathering  the  mamia  on  that 
day,"  replied  the  boy. 

"  Does  the  Bible  say  so  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  Robert,  turning  to 
the  sixteenth  chapter  of  Exodus,  and 
reading : 

" '  And  it  came  to  pass  that  on  the  sixth 
day  they  gathered  twice  as  much  bread, 


206        VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

two  omers  for  one  man  :  and  all  the 
rulers  of  the  congregation  came  and  told 
Moses. 

"  '  And  he  said  unto  them,  This  is  that 
which  the  Lord  said.  To-morrow  is  the 
rest  of  the  holy  Sabbath  unto  the  Lord: 
bake  that  which  ye  will  bake  to-day, 
and  seethe  that  ye  will  seethe  :  and  that 
which  remaineth  over  lay  up  for  you  to 
be  kept  until  the  morning. 

"'Six  days  shall  ye  gather  it;  but  on 
the  seventh  day,  which  is  the  Sabbath,  in 
it  there  shall  be  none.' " 

"  But,  Robert,  did  all  the  children  of 
Israel  observe  what  God*  said?"  asked 
Mr.  Woodman. 

"  They  did  not.  Some  of  them  refused 
to  believe  what  Moses  had  told  them ; 
and  they,  therefore,  went  out  on  Sabbath 
morning,  as  they  had  on  other  mornings, 
to  gather  manna." 

"  Did  they  find  any  ?" 

"  jS"©,  sir.  They  were  disappointed : 
and  the  Lord  was  displeased  with  them, 
and  reproved  them." 

"  A  beautiful  lesson  is  here,  dear  chil- 


<      '^OUll   DAYLY   BREAD."  207 

dren  ;  and  one  which  I  hope  you  will 
never  forget.  .  It  is  always  safe  to  per- 
fectly trust  and  implicitly  obey  God. 

"  My  young  friends,  there  is  one  thing 
more  in  regard  to  this  prayer  of  which  I 
wish  to  speak.  We  have  considered  its 
meaning  and  its  force ;  let  us  now  con- 
sider its  spirit. 

"  Whoever  offers  this  prayer  in  its  true 
spirit,  must  acknowledge  his  dependence 
on  his  heavenly  Father.  He  must  come 
in  the  true  spirit  of  dependence. 

"JSTot  a  mouthful  of  food  can  man 
cause  to  grow,  to  satisfy  his  oft-recurring 
hunger.  IS'ot  a  cup  of  water  can  he  dis- 
till fi'om  the  clouds,  though  he  were  dying 
of  thirst.  All  power  is  with  God.  What 
can  man  do  ?  His  heavenly  Father  must 
give  him  the  seed  to  sow,  and  the  power 
to  sow  it.  'Tis  he  also  who  distilleth  the 
dews,  and  sendeth  the  rain,  and  givetli 
the  sunshine,  and  holdeth  the  winds  in 
his  hands.  Yes,  God  alone  hath  power. 
He  wills,  and  the  frosts  of  winter  are 
gone,  and  tlie  rills  go  dancing  over  the 
plains;  and  the  flowers  spring,  and  the 


208       VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

fields  are  clothed  with  verdure,  and  the 
forests  with  foliage.  He  wills,  and  sum- 
mer comes,  and  drinks  up  the  dew,  and 
dries  up  the  dancing  streamlet,  and 
scorches  and  withers  the  face  of  nature,  as 
.with  the  breath  of  the  sirocco.  He  wills 
again,  and  autumn  follows,  and  the  latter 
rain  is  given,  and  the  harvest  is  perfected, 
and  man  gathers  it  into  barns  and  store- 
houses. And  then  the  fire  is  kindled,  and 
the  door  of  our  dwelling  is  closed,  lest  stern 
old  winter  should  enter,  and  chill  us  with 
his  icj  presence  ;  for  he,  too,  comes  at  the 
bidding  of  Jehovah. 

"Not  one  man  on  all  the  face  of  the 
earth  can  live  a  single  day  unless  God  gives 
him  his  '  day ly  bread.'  Food  and  drink, 
raiment  and  shelter,  health  and  friends, 
and  whatever  is  essential  to  our  comfort,  is 
the  good  gift  of  the  '  Father  of  mercies.' 

"This  petition  is  also  an  expression  of 
faith. 

"We  must  'draw  nigh,'  when  we  oflfer 
this  prayer,  '  with  true  hearts,  in  full 
assurance  of  faith,'  for  '  without  faith  it  is 
impossible  to  please  him.' 


"OUR  DAYLY  BREAD."  209 

"But  faith,  in  order  that  it  may  pre- 
vail with  God,  must  be  active.  I  mean 
by  this  that  we  must  do  as  well  as  pray ; 
we  must  act  as  well  as  desire.  Our 
heavenly  Father  will  never  do  for  us 
what  we  can  do  for  ourselves.  He  has 
given  us  powers  of  mind  and  body ;  we 
must  employ  these  powers  in  active  labors. 
The  sluggard,  who  sleeps  in  the  spring, 
must  not  expect  that  God  will  give  him 
a  harvest  in  the  autumn,  even  should  he 
spend  the  whole  summer  in  prayer;  for 
God  has  said,  '  He  shall  beg  in  harvest, 
and  have  nothinor.'  The  command  to  all 
is,  '  Go,  work  !' 

"  But  when  we  have  done  all  that  is  in 
our  power  to  do,  then  we  may  safely  trust 
tlie  rest  to  God.  You  doubtless  rem.ember 
what  David  said  on  this  point.  Can  any 
one  tell  me  ?" 

"  '  I  have  been  young  and  now  am  old  ; 
yet  have  I  not  seen  the  righteous  foi-saken, 
nor  his  seed  begging  bread,' "  replied 
Willie. 

"  Yes,  Willie,  tliat's  the  text  which  was 
in  my  mind.     But  I  would  not  have  you 


210        VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD   ELM. 

tliink  it  the  only  promise  which  the  right- 
eous have  to  cling  to,  for  there  are  many. 
Our  Father  in  heaven  will  no  more  forget 
or  neglect  one  of  his  obedient  children 
than  your  parents  would  forget  you,  or 
neglect  your  little  brother  or  sister.  Let 
me  relate  a  few  incidents,  showing  the 
faithfulness  of  God  in  hearing  prayer,  and 
providing  for  the  wants  of  those  who  trust 
in  him. 

"It  was  a  season  of  great  scarcity  on 
the  hill  regions  of  Xew-Hampshire,  when 
a  poor  woman,  who  lived  in  a  hut  by  the 
W'Oods,  had  no  bread  for  her  little  family. 
She  was  sick,  and  without  either  friends 
or  money.  There  was  no  helper  but  God, 
and  she  betook  hereelf  to  prayer.  She 
prayed  long  and  earnestly ;  for  she  be- 
lieved that  He  who  fed  the  young  ravens 
w^ould  feed  her. 

"  On  rising  from  her  knees  one  morn- 
ing, her  little  barefooted  girl  opened  tlie 
door  to  go  out.  Something  shining  on 
the  sill  stopped  her.  The  child  stooped 
down,  and,  behold,  a  silver  dollar !  She 
ran  and  took  it  to  her  mother.     It  really 


"OUR  DAYLY  BREAD."  211 

was  a  new,  round,  bright  silver  dollar. 
They  looked  up  and  down  the  road ;  not 
a  living  person  was  in  sight,  and  neither 
footstep  or  wagon  wheels  were  to  be 
heard. 

"  Where  did  the  dollar  come  from  ? 
Did  God  send  it  ?  Doubtless  it  was  from 
his  hand  ;  but  how  did  it  get  there  ?  Did 
it  rain  down?  'No;  that  could  not  be. 
Did  an  angel  fetch  it  ?  No ;  God  has 
ways  and  means  for  answering  prayer 
without  sending  special  messengers.  He 
touches  some  little  spring,  in  the  great 
machinery  of  his  providence,  without  in 
the  least  disturbins:  its  res^nlaritv,  and 
help  comes.  Sometimes  we  do  not  see 
exactly  how,  as  this  poor  woman  did  not ; 
but  it  is,  nevertheless,  true  that  all  bless- 
ings come  from  God." 

"  But  how  did  the  silver  dollar  get  on 
the  door  sill,  uncle?"  asked  Jennie,  unable 
longer  to  restrain  her  curiosity. 

"  It  happened  in  this  wise,  Jennie.  A 
pious  young  blacksmith  was  leaving  his 
home  for  the  sea-board,  in  quest  of  busi- 
ness.   It  was  several  miles  before  he  could 


212       VOICES  FROM   THE   OLD   ELM. 

take  the  stage-coach,  so,  instead  of  going 
in  the  wagon  which  carried  his  chest,  he 
said  he  would  walk. 

"  '  Come,  ride,'  his  friends  said  :  '  it  will 
be  hot  and  dusty.' 

"  '  No,'  answered  the  young  man  ;  '  I'll 
walk,  and  take  a  short  cut  through  the 
pines;'  and  off  he  started,  with  a  stout 
walking-stick. 

"  As  he  was  jogging  on  through  a  piece 
of  woods,  he  heard  a  voice  from  a  little, 
lonely  hut,  by  the  road-side.  It  drew  his 
notice,  and  he  stepped  toward  it  on  tip- 
toe. Then  he  stopped  and  listened,  and 
found  it  was  the  voice  of  prayer ;  and  he 
gathered  from  the  prayer  that  she  who 
offered   it    was    poor,    sick,    and    friend- 


" '  "What  can  I  do  to  help  this  poor  wo- 
man?' thought  the  young  man.  He  did 
not  like  to  go  into  the  hut.  He  clapped 
his  hand  into  his  pocket,  and  drew  out  a 
dollar.  It  was  the  first  silver  dollar  he 
ever  had,  and  a  dollar  was  a  big  sum  for 
him  to  give,  for  he  was  not  as  rich  then 
as  he  is  now.    But  no  matter ;  he  felt  that 


THE    POOR    WOUAN'S    UKKNOWN    FRIEND. 


"OUR  DAYLY  BREAD."  21o 

the  poor  woman  must  have  it.  The  dol- 
lar being  silver,  and  likely  to  attract 
notice  as  soon  tis  the  door  was  opened,  he 
concluded  to  lay  it  on  the  sill,  and  go 
away,  but  not  far.  He  hid  behind  a  large 
rock,  near  the  house,  to  watch  what  be- 
came of  his  money.  Soon  he  had  the 
satisfaction  of  seeing  the  little  girl  come 
out,  and  seize  the  prize,  when  he  went  on 
his  way  rejoicing. 

"  Kow  just  see  how  God  answered  tlie 
prayer  of  this  poor  woman!  The  silver 
dollar,  doubtless,  came  into  this  young 
man's  hand  for  this  very  purpose  ;  for  you 
see  a  paper  dollar  might  have  blown  away.- 
Then,  again,  he  was  led  to  walk,  instead 
of  ride — why,  he  did  not  exactly  know ; 
but  God,  who  directed  his  steps,  did 
know. 

"So,  children,  God  plans,  and  we  are 
the  instruments  to  carry  on  his  plans. 
Oftentimes  we  seem  to  be  about  our  own 
business,  when,  in  truth,  we  are  about  his, 
answering,  it  may  be,  the  prayers  of  his 
people. 

"  Here  is  another  incident  which  I  met 


216        VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

with  in  my  reading,  the  other  day.  I 
think  it  is  very  beautiful  and  touch- 
ing. 

"  In  a  miserable  cottage,  at  the  bottom 
of  a  hill,  two  children  hovered  over  a 
smoldering  fire.  A  tempest  raged  with- 
out, a  fearful  tempest,  against  which  man 
and  beast  were  alike  powerless. 

"  A  poor  old  miser,  much  poorer  than 
these  shivering  children,  though  he  had 
heaps  of  money  at  home,  drew  his  ragged 
cloak  about  him,  as  he  crouched  down  at 
the  threshold  of  the  miserable  door.  He 
dared  not  enter,  for  fear  they  would  ask 
pay  for  shelter,  and  he  could  not  move 
for  the  storm. 

"  ^  I  am  hungry,  Nettie,'  cried  the  little 
boy. 

'"So  am  I,'  replied  his  sister.  Tve 
hunted  for  a  potato  paring,  and  I  can't 
find  any.' 

"  '  What  an  awful  storm  !' 

" '  Yes ;  and  the  old  tree  has  blown 
down!  I  guess  God  took  care  that  it 
didn't  blow  on  the  house.  See,  it  cer- 
tainly would  have  killed  us.' 


"OUR  DAYLY   BREAD/'  217 

" '  If  he  could  do  that,  couldn't  he  send 
us  bread,  sister  V 

"  '  I  guess  so  :  let's  pray  ''  our  Father  ;" 
and,  when  we  come  to  that  point,  stop  till 
we  get  some  bread.' 

"  So  they  began ;  and  the  miser, 
crouching  and  shiveiing,  listened.  When 
they  paused,  expecting,  in  their  childish 
faith,  to  see  some  miraculous  manifesta- 
tion, a  human  feeling  stole  into  his  heart. 
God  sent  some  angel  to  soften  it.  The 
old  man  had  bought  a  loaf  at  the  village, 
thinking  that  it  would  last  him  a  great 
many  days;  but  the  silence  of  the  two 
little  children  spoke  louder  to  him  tlian 
the  voice  of  many  waters.  He  opened 
the  door  softly,  threw  in  the  loaf,  and  then 
listened  to  the  wild,  eager  cry  of  delight 
that  came  from  the  half-famished  little 
ones. 

"  '  It  dropped  right  down  from  heaven  ! 
didn't  it  ?'  continued  the  younger. 

"  *  Yes ;  I  mean  to  love  God  forever,  for 
giving  us  bread  because  we  asked  him,' 
replied  the  sister. 

ii  t  "We']!  a,gi^  him  every  day  ;  won't  wo? 
u 


218        VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

Why,  I  never  thought  God  was  so  good ! 
did  you  V 

.    "  '  Yes,  I  always  thought  so ;  but  I  never 
quite  knew  it  before.' 

" '  Let's  ask  him  to  give  father  work  to 
do  all  the  time,  so  we  never  need  be 
hungry  again :  he'll  do  it,  I'm  sure.' 

"  The  storm  passed  away>  and  the  miser 
went  home.  A  little  flower  had  sprung 
up  in  his  heart ;  it  was  no  longer  barren. 
In  a  few  weeks  he  died ;  but  not  before 
he  had  given  the  cottage,  which  was  his, 
to  the  poor  laboring  man. 

"  I  will  relate  one  more^  that  I  just  now 
think  of.  . 

"In  a  village  near  Cologne,  on  the 
River  Khine,  there  lived  a  widow,  with 
nine  children,  in  extreme  poverty.  She 
was  a  Christian,  and  had  learned  to  trust 
in  God. 

"  When,  therefore,  her  children  cried 
for  bread,  she  usually  sought "  to  pacify 
them  by  saying,  '  My  dear  children,  j  ust 
have  a  little  patience ;  our  Father  in 
heaven  will  soon  come,  and  bring  what 
will  supply  oiir  wants'    And  that  Father, 


"OUR   DAYLY  BREAD."  219 

to  whom  she  pointed  her  little  flock,  never 
failed  to  come  to  her  relief,  and  to  confirm 
her  trust  and  confidence  in  his  gracious 
promise,  when  he  styles  himself,  '  a  Father 
of  the  fatherless,  and  a  Judge  of  the 
widow.' 

"  On  one  occasion,  during  the  winter 
season,  her  heart  was  ready  to  burst  on 
finding  she  neither  had  food  to  set  before 
her  hungry  children,  nor  even  a  copper 
with  which  to  purchase  fuel  to  keep  them 
from  perishing.  Hungry  and  cold,  the 
poor  children  clustered  round  the  fire- 
place, crying  bitterly.  But  the  trusting 
mother  did  not  despair:  'Children,  only 
have  patience ;  our  Father  will  surely 
come,  and  help  us,'  were  still  her 
words. 

''  While  she  was  crying  from  her  in- 
most soul  to  the  Saviour  for  relief,  one  of 
the  children,  while  stirring  about  the  cold 
peat  ashes  with  the  hearth-tongs,  found  a 
coin  therein,  which  he  took  to  be  a  far- 
thing. 

"  '  A  farthing !  a  farthing,  mother !' 
cried   the   child,  in   a   transport   of  joy. 


220        VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

'  Let  me  go  and  buy  peat  with  it,  and 
then  we'll  get  a  warm  room.' 

"  The  mother,  on  examining  the  sup- 
posed farthing  more  closely,  while  rub- 
bing it  with  her  apron,  discovered  that  it 
became  more  and  more  yellow.  She 
hastily  ran  to  a  jeweler,  to  show  him  the 
coin,  and  to  learn  its  value,  when,  lo,  it 
was  discovered  to  be  a  guinea !  On  hear- 
ing that  it  was  worth  about  five  dollars, 
she  lost  no  time  in  buying  food  for  her 
hungry  little  ones,  and  fuel  to  keep  then! 
warm. 

"  I  could  relate  many  such  incidents  as 
these,  showing  how  truly  God  hears  his 
children  when  they  cry  unto  him.  The 
Christian  has  ever  found  the  promise 
true :  '  Trust  in  the  Lord,  and  do  good ; 
so  shalt  thou  dwell  in  the  land,  and  verily 
thou  shalt  be  fed.' 

"  Let  us  endeavor,  dear  cliildren,  to  be 
*  co-workers  together  with  God,'  in  blessing 
the  world.  It  is  our  duty  to  minister  to 
the  poor  and  the  needy  around  us.  They 
are,  perhaps,  praying,  '  Give  us  this  day 
our   dayly   bread;'    and   the   Father,   to 


"OUR  DAYLY   BREAD."  221 

whom  they  pray,  may  be  whispering  to 
your  hearts,  '  Go,  and  carry  them  food ; 
go,  and  bless  them.'  This  is  the  way  in 
which  he  designs  to  answer  their  prayers. 
Do  not  refuse  to  obey  God ;  rather  ask, 
with  Paul,  'What  wilt  thou  have  me  to 
do?' 

"  There  are  many  other  things  which  I 
would  like  to  say  to  you,  from  these  words, 
but  we  have  not  the  time.  It  is  already 
growing  late,  and  you  must  return  to  your 
♦homes;  and,  as  you  go,  'ponder  tliese 
things  in  your  hearts.'  Try  to  reduce  to 
practice  what  you  learn,  just  as  Clara  has 
done,  and  I  am  sure  God  will  as  truly 
hear  you  as  he  did  her." 

A  prayer  was  offered,  a  hymn  was  sung, 
and,  with  new  resolves  to  live  for  God.  and 
to  labor  to  be  useful,  the  children  breathed 
their  "good-night,"  and  parted;  loving 
"  their  minister,"  as  they  called  Mr.  Wood- 
man, and  loving  God  and  each  other,  bet- 
ter than  ever. 


222        VOICES  FROM   THE   OLD   ELM. 

CHAPTER  Xni. 

NED    WILDER. 

One  clay,  during  the  following  week, 
Sarah,  Clara,  and  Robert  were  ont  in  the 
pasture,  picking  berries.  They  had  been 
enjoying  themselves  finely  for  some  two 
hours,  when  whom  should  they  see  coming 
over  the  hill  but  Xed  Wilder  !  He  came 
sauntering  along,  stooping  now  and  ther> 
to  pick  the  delicious  strawberries  which 
grew  there  so  plentifully,  and  evidently 
did  not  see  Robert  and  the  girls  for  some 
moments  after  he  was  discovered  by  them. 

"  Halloo,  there !"  said  ]^ed,  when  he 
saw  the  children.  ''Got  many  berries?" 
he  continued,  approaching  the  company. 

"  Considerable  many,"  answered  Rob- 
ert, as  he  turned  away  to  another  "thick 
spot." 

"  Let  me  see,"  and  ]S"ed  snatched  Clara's 
basket  away  from  her,  and  plunged  his 
great,  dirty  hand  into  it,  clutching  a  large 


NED   WILDER.  223 

handful  of  tlie  beautiful  berries,  and  spoil- 
ing many  of  those  remaining. 

"  O,  don't,  Ned !"  cried  the  gi^l,  in  be- 
seeching terms.  "  I'll  give  you  some  if 
you  won't  do  so." 

The  only  answer  to  this  appeal  was  a 
loud  laugh  from  the  boy,  as  he  threw  the 
basket  upon  the  ground,  and  turned 
away. 

Robert  turned  quickly,  as  he  heard  the 
exclamation  of  Clara ;  and,  when  he  saw 
the  boy's  wanton  act,  he  advanced  a  few 
€teps  toward  hiin,  crying, 

''That's  downright  mean,  Ked  Wilder! 
A  boy  that  will  do  that  ought  to  be  horse- 
whipped." 

"  Better  try  to  do  it.  Bob,"  answered 
the  boy,  with  a  laugh  of  defiance. 

"  Well,  sir,  I  will  do  it  if  you  don't  let 
the  girls  alone.  They  didn't  trouble  you, 
I'm  sure,"  replied  Hobert,  his  flashing  eye 
and  pale  cheek  telling  of  the  roused  spirit 
within. 

"Will,  hey?"  replied  the  bad  boy, 
snatching  Clara's  bonnet  from  her  head, 
as  slie  stooped  to  pick  up  her  scattered 


224       VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

berries,  and  threw  it  up  into  an  old  scraggy 
apple-tree. 

Quick  as  thought  Eobert  sprung  ^upon 
the  wicked  boy,  and  dealt  him  a  blow 
upon  his  temple  which  sent  him  stagger- 
ing backward.  With  a  growl  of  rage  and 
pain,  he  recovered  himself,  and  rushed 
upon  his  assailant,  who,  with  clinched 
fists,  and  firmly  compressed  lips,  stood 
bravely  awaiting  his  onset. 

Sarah  and  Clara  screamed  as  they  saw 
the  fierce  boy  rushing  upon  Eobert,  for 
they  believed  that  he  would  certainly  kill 
him.  But  with  their  brave  defender  there 
was  no  sign  of  fear.  His  slight  figure, 
with  the  auburn  curls  shook  back  from 
his  high,  noble  brow,  and  the  bright 
blue  eyes,  usually  so  soft  and  mild,  now 
flashing  a  strange  light,  presented  a  truly 
spirited  picture. 

Edward  was  a  year  older,  and  much 
heavier  than  Eobert,  and  he  did  not  doubt 
his  ability  to  conquer  him.  He  was  fully 
determined  to  give  him  a  dreadful  beat- 
ing. He  hated  the  boy  because  others 
loved  him ;  and  he  had  tried  often  before 


NED   WILDER.  226 

to  draw  him  into  a  quarrel,  that  he  miglit 
have  an  opportunity  to  vent  his  hatred, 
by  giving  him  a  good  flogging.  But  al- 
ways before  this,  Eobert  had  turned  away 
whenever  Edward  insulted  him,  takins" 
no  notice  of  his  vile  words  and  jeering 
laugh.  But  to  see  the  wicked  boy's 
cruel  treatment  of  the  kind  and  loviner 
Clara  Winthrope  was  more  than  he 
could  endure  in  silence.  Hence  the 
present  fight. 

Ned  hesitated  as  he  was  about  to  strike 
with  his  uplifted  fist,  for  he  saw  Robert's 
steady,  determined  look,  and  Ned  Wilder 
was  a  perfect  coward,  notwithstanding  his 
courageous  boasting.  He  stooped  to  pick 
up  a  stone  to  hurl  at  the  boy  whom  he 
dared  not  otherwise  attack.  Robert  saw 
the  motion,  and  before  his  cowardly  foe 
could  -accomplish  his  base  design,  he 
sprang  forward  and  dealt  him  a  second 
blow  in  tlie  face,  which  sent  the  idle  cow- 
ard rolling  over  upon  the  ground. 

Just  then  a  man  in  a  carriage  came  rid- 
ing along,  and  seeing  the  trouble,  he  stop- 
ped his  horse,  alighted  from  his  carriage, 


226       VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

and  walked  over  toward  the  company  of 
children. 

Kobert  had  receded  a  few  steps,  after 
striking  Edward  ,the  second  time,  and 
stood  in  much  the  same  attitude  as  be- 
fore. The  girls  ran  toward  the  man, 
screaming  with  terror,  while  poor  Ed- 
wai-d  sat  upon  the  grass,  with  the  blood 
streaming  from  his  nose,  and  crj^ing  like 
a  great  baby.     He  was  badly  frightened. 

'''What's  the  matter  here?"  asked  the 
man  as  he  came  up  to  the  little- group. 

"He's  a'most  killed  me!"  whimpered 
Edward,  as  he  held  his  head  witli  one 
hand,  and  pointed  with  his  other  to 
Robert. 

The  man  smiled  as  he  turned  from  the 
great  two-fisted  boy  upon  the  grass,  and 
looked  at  the  slight  figure  of  Robert ;  but 
when  he  marked  the  determination  of  his 
firm  lip,  and  the  fire  that  burned  in  his 
eye,  he  did  not  wonder  at  the  result  of  the 
battle. 

"Why,  Robert!"  continued  the  man, 
who,  being  a  teacher  in  the  Sabbath 
school,  knew  all  the  cliildren  well ;  "  how 


NED    WIJ.DEK.  227 

did  this  happen  ?     I  did  not  think  that 
you  were  a  fighting  boy." 

"  I'm  hot  a  fighting  boy,  sir ;  I  was  only 
protecting  these  girls  from  Ned,"  replied 
llobert.  "  He's  a  mean,  ugly  boy,  indeed 
he  is!" 

"  I'm  afraid  that  is  all  true,  Robert,  but 
what  did  he  do  to  make  it  necessary  for 
you  to  strike  him?"  again  asked  the 
man. 

"Ask  the  girls,  sir;  I  had  rather  they 
would  tell  you,"  replied  Robert. 

The  man  turned  to  the  girls,  and  learn- 
ed from  them  all  the  particulars  in  the 
case.  Sarah  told  him  just  how  Ned  had 
snatched  Clara's  basket,  and  spilled  and 
destroyed  her  berries,  and  thrown  her 
sun-bonnet  up  into  a  tree,  and  then 
dared  Robert  to  interfere.  When  the 
gentleman  had  heard  all  about  the 
matter,  he  turned  to  Robert  and  said 
kindlj : 

"I  hardly  know  how  to  blame  you, 
my  brave  boy,  for  the  part  you  have 
acted,  because  you  had  honorable  mo- 
tives.     But    still     you    were     doubtless 


228       VOICES  FKOM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

wrong.  It  would  have  been  better  to 
have  borne  still  more  than  you  did 
before  resorting  to  force.  But  I  con- 
fess you  had  much  to  excite  you.  Is 
this  the  first  time  that  Edward  has  troub- 
led you?" 

"No,  sir;  he  has  tried  to  make  me 
angry,  and  to  get  me  to  fight  him  ever  so 
many  times.  He's  real  ugly,  sir !"  replied 
Eobert. 

"  Did  you  ever  fight  him  before  ?" 

"No,  sir;  and  I  wouldn't  now,  only  I 
couldn't  stand  still  and  see  him  so  ugly  to 
Clara." 

"  Why  did  you  never  fight  him  before  ? 
"Were  you  afraid  to?"  again  asked  the 
man. 

"I  am  not  afraid  of  him,  sir,  and  never 
was ;"  and  the  boy  drew  himself  up  to  his 
full  height,  and  cast  a  look  full  of  scorn 
upon  the  still  blubbering  Edward ;  "  but 
it's  mean  and  wicked  to  be  always  fight- 
ing, and  so  I  go  away  and  leave  boys 
when  they  want  to  fight."  ^ 

"  What,  when  they  call  you  a  coward, 
and  laugh  at  you?" 


N  NED   WILDER.  229 

"Yes,  sir;  I  hope  I  am  not  afraid  to  Le 
called  a  coward,  when  I  know  I  am  not 
one.  And  as  for  their  laugh,  what  hurt 
will  that  do  me?" 

"jS^one  whatever,  my  noble  lad.  Al- 
ways stick  to  that,  Robert,  and  you  will 
indeed  prove  that  you  are  no  coward.  I 
^1*  sorry  that  this  affair  has  happened. 
And  now,  Edward,"  tlie  man  contin- 
ued, turning  to  the  boy,  who  still  sat 
upon  the  grass,  "you  see  what  comes 
of  being  wicked  and  unkind.  What 
did  Clara  do  to  you,  that  you  should 
treat  her  as  you  did  ?" 

"  Nothing,"  sobbed  the  boy  in  reply. 

"Why,  then,  did  you  treat  her  un- 
kindly?" 

Edward  was  silent,  for  he  had  nothing 
to  answer.  He  knew  he  had  done  wrons:, 
and  also  tliat  he  had  no  reason  for  doing 
as  he  did. 

"Well,  Edward,"  continued  the  man, 
^*  you  must  change  this  course.  It  is  not 
onjy  very  wicked,  and  therefore  ruinous  to 
yourself,  but  it  is  wronging  others  also. 
Why  should  you  be  permitted  to  go  about 


230        VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

troubling  every  civil  boy  or  girl  whom 
yon  chance  to  meet?  It  cannot  be  per- 
mitted any  longer,  and  will  not  be.  Just 
remember  what  I  say.  If  you  will  be- 
have yourself  decently,  and  be  kind,  and 
obliging,  and  civil,  like  other  boys,  very 
well.  But  if  I  hear  of  any  more  of  your 
wicked,  actions,  I  will  see  that  you  aie 
taken  care  of.  You  might  make  a  good 
boy ;  and  if  you  will  reform,  and  come  to 
the  Sabbath  school,  and  also  go  to  the 
day  school,  I  will  do  all  I  can  to  aid  you. 
And  I  do  not  doubt  but  even  Robert  and 
the  girls  here  will  forgive  you,  and  do 
what  they  can  to  help  you  likewise,  and 
make  you  happy." 

"  Yes,  indeed  we  will !"  answered  Rob- 
ert, with  his  noble,  generous  feelings 
again  springing  up  in  his  heart. 

Edward  got  up  and  walked  slowly  away 
toward  a  brook,  without  answering  a  word. 
Here  he  stopped  and  washed  the  blood 
fi-om  his  face  and  hands,  and  then,  turn- 
ing into  a  little  path  which  led  into  a 
grove  of  young  trees,  was  soon  lost  to 
view. 


NED    WILDER.  231 

The  man,  also,  after  giving  a  few  more 
words  of  counsel  and  advice  to  tlie  chil- 
dren, proceeded  on  his  way,  leaving  llob- 
ert  and  the  girls  to  finish  filling  their 
baskets.  This  was  soon  done,  and  they 
started  for  home. 

But  why  did  Edward  Wilder  do  as  he 
did?  I  will  tell  you.  First,  he  was  a 
vicious  boy,  and  took  pleasure  in  making 
othei*s  unhappy.  This  was  what  lie  called 
fun !  "  A  strange  kind  of  fun,"  every 
good  child  will  exclaim.  But  we  must 
remember  that  our  tastes  are  almost 
wholly  owing  to  our  culture ;  and  by 
tliis  I  mean  the  way  in  which  we  have 
been  educated  or  brought  up.  Edward's 
pai^nts  were  wicked.  His  father  wae  an 
intemperate,  swearing,  fighting  man,  and 
had  taught  his  boy  to  walk  in  his  own 
steps.  His  mother,  too,  was  a  poor, 
miserable  woman.  Ever^^body  knew 
she  would  lie,  and  many  believed  she 
would  steal.  Sucb  was  Edward's  home. 
Can  we  wonder,  then,  that  he  was  a 
vicious  boy,  and  took  pleasure  in  vex- 
ing others? 


232        VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

Edwaixi,  also,  as  we  have  already  said, 
hated  Robert  because  others  loved  hira. 
This  he  could  not  patiently  endure,  and  he 
took  every  opportunity  possible  to  show  his 
hatred.  He  not  only  had  such  feelings 
toward  Eobert,  but  he  felt  the  same 
toward  all  others  of  his  young  acquaint- 
ances, who  would  not  join  him  in  his 
wicked  ways. 

Then,  again,  he  hated  Clara  in  particu- 
lar, because  Mr.  Winthrope  had  reformed, 
and  would  no  longer  associate  with  his 
poor,  drunken  father.  This  vexed  him, 
and  he  said  he  would  "let  them  know 
that  his  lather  was  as  good  as  old  Dick 
Winthrope,  if  he  had  become  pious!" 
This  accounts  for  his  treatment  of  the 
little  girl. 

But  his  evil  inclinations  led  him  into 
sad  trouble.  He  had  been  whipjDed  by 
a  boy  smaller  than  himself;  had  been 
disgraced  and  humbled  in  the  eyes  of  his 
wicked  associates,  for  he  did  not  doubt 
they  would  soon  hear  of  the  occurrence; 
and,  finally,  he  had  been  threatened  with 
punishment  if  he  did  not  mend  his  ways 


NED   WILDER.  233 

speedily.  Truly,  "the  way  of  the  trans- 
gressor is  hard."  Poor  Edward!  how 
much  happier  he  would  have  been,  had 
he  mended  his  evil  ways  and  become  a 
good  and  useful  man. 
15 


234      VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD  ELM. 


CHAPTER  XIY. 

"FORGIVE  US  OUR  DEBTS,  AS  WE  FORGIVE 
OUR  DEBTORS." 

The  event  related  in  the  last  chapter 
became  ^^enerally  known  before  the  next 
meeting  at  Rose  Cottage.  Many  and 
various  were  the  comments  made  upon 
it  by  different  persons.  Some  highly 
applauded  the  act,  calHng  it  manly,  and 
Robert  a  noble  little  fellow,  while  others 
as  highly  blamed  him. 

Robert  was  naturally  a  noble-spirited 
and  kind-hearted  lad.  It  was  the  first 
"  fight"  he  had  ever  been  engaged  in,  for 
usually  he  was  a  peace-maker.  He  re- 
gretted it  deeply,  and  yet  he  could  not, 
even  upon  cool  reflection,  see  how  he 
could  have  acted  much  diflferent  from 
what  he  did,  and  still  have  discharged 
his  duty  to  his  little  friends.  He  was  re- 
solved, however,  to  ask  Mr.  Worxlman 
about  the  matter,  and  if  he  had  really 


OF  FORGIVENESS.  235 

'done  wrong,  he  felt  desirous  of  making 
all  suitable  reparation. 

Mr.  Woodman  had  been  informed  of 
the  affair,  and  in  his  preparation  for  the 
next  meeting  with  the  children,  had  en- 
deavored to  arrange  his  thoughts  so  as  to 
meet  the  difficulties  of  the  case. 

Saturday  afternoon  found  them  all  in 
their  accustomed  place,  and  after  the 
usual  opening  exercises,  Mr.  Woodman 
called  for  the  subject  upon  which  they 
were  to  converse.  Jennie  opened  her 
little  Testament  and  read  : 

'« 'Forgive  us  our  debts,  as  we  forgive 
our  debtors.' " 

"A  very  solemn  subject,"  continued 
Henry,  "and  one  in  which  we  are  all 
interested.  Every  person  who  is  old 
enough  to  sin,  lieeds  forgiveness,  and 
without  it  he  w^ill  be  forever  lost.  If, 
then,  God  will  forgive  his  sins  only  on 
certain  conditions,  it  is  very  important 
for  him  to  know  clearly  what  those  con- 
ditions are.  But  tell  me  what  is  meant 
here  by  dehtsr 

"  Sins,"  replied  the  children. 


236       VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

"Why  so?"  asked  Mr.  Woodman. 

"They  are  called  sins  in  Luke's  Gos- 
pel," answered  Charles. 

"  True,"  replied  Henry ;  "  and  sin  is 
often  represented  in  Scripture  under  the 
idea  of  a  debt.  Every  time  we  sin  against 
God  we  become  more  and  more  indebted 
to  his  justice;  and  when  payment  is  ex- 
acted, alas,  we  have  nothing  wherewith 
to  pay  the  debt !" 

"  But  there  is  still  another  term  by 
which  this  debt  is  described.  Can  you 
tell  me  what  it  is  ?" 

"  Trespass,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Yes ;  and  surely  it  is  very  justly  so 
called.  By  sinning  we  trespass  upon  the 
just  laws  of  God;  we  trample  upon  his 
rights,  and  are  worthy  of  condemnation. 

"  '  Sin,'  says  Paul,  '  is  the  transgression 
of  the  law ;'  and  the  law  of  God  is  his  ex- 
pressed will.  Whatever  God  has  revealed 
as  his  will  concerning  us,  is  his  law.  It  is 
his  will  that  we  should  hallow  his  name  in 
our  thoughts,  words,  and  deeds ;  and,  con- 
sequently, it  is  his  law  that  we  should  do 
80.     We  are  to  be  '  heavenly  minded,'  to 


OF  FORGIVENESS.  237 

Hove  our  neighbor  as  ourselves,'  to  'set 
our  affections  on  things  above,'  and, 
*  whether  we  eat  or  drink,  or  wfetever 
we  do,  to  do  it  unto  the  Lord,'  with  a 
desire  to  glorify  him.  If  we  fail  to  do 
this,  we  sin  against  him,  we  break  his 
law. 

"And  have  we  not  all  failed  in  this? 
Have  we  not  each,  in  thought,  word,  and 
deed,  trespassed  against  our  heavenl)^  Fa- 
ther? '  If  so,  we  need  forgiveness. 

"  But  we  have  also  sinned  against  each 
other.  Some  persons  have  done  us  wrong, 
and  we  have  been  equally  unkind  and  un- 
faithful toward  them.  Children  are  very 
apt  to  get  angry,  and  speak  unkind  words, 
and  perhaps  raise  their  hands  to  strike 
each  other.  They  forget  what  the  great 
Teacher  has  said  about  loving  one  another, 
and,  led  on  by  their  wicked  passions,  they 
break  the  Divine  law,  and,  unless  forgiven, 
must  suffer  its  dreadful  penalty. 

"  The  question,  then,  which  we  shouhl 
ask  ourselves  is  this:  Upon  what  condi- 
tion will  the  offended  Deity  forgive  our 
sins,  and 'restore  us  to  his  divine  favor? 


238        VOICES   FROM   THE    OLD   ELM. 

Our  Saviour  has  clearly  answered  this 
question :  '  If  je  forgive  men  their  tres- 
passes, your  heavenly  Father  will  also  for- 
give you  ;  but  if  ye  forgive  not  men  their 
trespasses,  neither  will  your  Father  forgive 
your  trespasses.' 

"  Here,  then,  dear  children,  is  the  rule. 
Our  heavenly  Father  will  '  forgive  us  our 
sins,'  as  we  '  forgive  those  who  have  tres- 
passed against  us.'  Let  us  examine  this 
text  a  little  closer,  and  endeavor  to  under- 
stand just  what  it  means.  We  slmll,  per- 
haps, understand  the  matter  better  if  we 
ask  another  question.  It  is  this  :  How  do 
we  wish  to  have  God  forgive  us  our  sins  ? 
The  answer  to  this  question  will  include 
several  points.  Let  me  enumerate  them  ; 
and  I  will  try  also  to"  illustrate  each  point. 

"  1.  We  desire  to  be  forgiven  fully.  We 
go  to  our  heavenly  Father,  and  pray, 
'  Wash  me  thoroughly  from  my  iniquity, 
and  cleanse  me  from  my  sin ;'  and,  with 
David,  if  we  are  really  sincere,  we  con- 
tinue to  cry,  'Blot  out  all  my  iniquities. 
Create  in  me  a  clean  heart,  O  God !  and 
renew  a  right  spirit  within  me.' 


OF   FORGIVENESS.  239 

"Thus  do  we  desire  to  be  forgiven. 
We  ask  for  a  complete  work.  So  also 
must  we  fully  forgive  those  '  who  trespass 
against  us.'  We  must  say  to  them,  and 
say  truly,  'I  forgive  all.  You  shall  stand 
in  my  esteem  as  though  you  had  never 
sought  to  injure  me,  or  in  any  way  "tres- 
passed against  me." '  And  this  we  must 
do,  not  simply  once  or  twice,  but  until 
'seventy  times  seven.' 

"  A  visitor  in  a  Sunday  school,  at  B., 
noticed  a  boy  and  girl  on  one  seat,  who 
were  brother  and  sister.  In  a  moment  of 
passion,  the  little  boy  struck  his  sister. 
The  girl  was  provoked,  and  raised  her 
hand  to  return  the  blow.  Her  teacher 
caught  her  eye,  and  said,  ^  Stop,  my  dear ; 
you  had  much  better  kiss  your  brother 
than  strike  him.'  The  look  and  the  word 
reached  her  heart.  Her  hand  dropped : 
she  threw  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and 
kissed  him. 

"  The  boy  was  moved.  He  could  have 
stood  against  a  blow,  but  he  could  not 
withstand  a  sisters  kiss.  He  compared 
his  wicked  act  with  her  loving  return,  and 


240       VOICES   FROM   THE   OLD   ELM. 

the  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks.  His 
little  sister  took  her  handkerchief,  and 
wiped  away  his  tears.  This  made  him 
cry  the  more,  until,  finally,  he  was  fully 
subdued.  But  why  did  the  little  girl  do 
as  she  did  ?" 

"  Because  she  fully  forgave  her  brother," 
was  replied. 

"  Yery  true.  If  she  had  retained  any 
unkind  feeling  in  her  heart,  though  it  had 
been  but  a  very  little,  she  would  not  have 
sealed  her  forgiveness  with  a  kiss,  and 
then  so  lovingly  wiped  away  his  tears. 
This  is  just  as  our  heavenly  Father  does 
by  us.  Hear  what  he  says  to  penitent 
sinners :  '  I  will  be  merciful  to  their  un- 
righteousness, and  their  sins  and .  their 
iniquities  will  I  remember  no  more.' 
That  is,  those  whom  God  forgives  shall 
be  to  him  as  though  they  had  not  sin- 
ned. 

"  2.  We  desire  to  be  forgiven  speedily. 
Thus  the  psalmist  prayed  :  '  Make  haste 
to  help  me,  O  Lord,  my  salvation !'  'Be 
pleased,  O  Lord,  to  deliver  me  !  O  Lord, 
make  haste  to  help  me  !'     '  I  am  poor  and 


OF  FORGIVENESS.  241 

needy :  make  haste  unto  me,  O  God  :  thou 
art  my  help  and  my  deliverer;  O  Lord, 
make  no  tarrying!'  'Bow  down  thine 
ear  to  me;  deliver  me  speedily.'  'Hide 
not  thy  face  from  me  in  the  day  when  I 
am  in  trouble ;  incline  thine  ear  unto  me : 
in  the  day  when  I  call,  answer  me 
speedily.' 

"And  we  must  forgive  even  as  God 
forgives.  "W"e  should  forgive  just  as  soon 
as  we  are  sinned  against ;  and  then  seek 
the  very  fii^t  opportunity  to  tell  the  per- 
son how  fully  we  forgive  him. 

"  Petei^  was  a  good  little  boy,  about 
twelve  years  old.  One  day,  at  school, 
Jarrtes  was  at  the  head  of  his  class,  while 
Peter  stood  next  to  him.  James  was  a 
wicked,  selfish  boy,  who  had  never  been 
taught  at  home  the  law  of  kindness  and 
Christian  love.  When,  therefore,  he  miss- 
ed in  his  lesson,  and  Peter  got  above  him, 
and,  consequently,  bore  off  the  medal, 
which  but  for  that  one  mishap  would  have 
been  his  o\jj'n,  he  was  very  angry.  He 
said,  'it  was  not  fair,'  that  'Peter  had 
cheated,'  and  many  other  things  that  were 


242        VOICES   FROM   THE   OLD   ELM. 

both  unkind  and  nntrue,  and  he  declared 
he  would  be  revenged. 

"  Peter  was  sitting  up  in  his  little 
chamber  one  Saturday  afternoon,  studying 
his  Sunday-school  lesson,  when,  happen- 
ing to  cast  his  eyes  out  of  the  window,  he 
saw  James  coming  down  by  the  little 
brook,  that  ran  leaping  and  singing  from 
the  hill-side  at  a  little  distance  from  the 
house. 

"  About  half  way  up  the  hill  Peter  had 
made  a  little  mill.  He  built  his  darm  with 
stone  and  turf;  made  his  little  gate,  and 
constructed  his  flume ;  and  then  he  car- 
ried out  his  mill,  with  its  beautiful  wheel, 
and  saw,  and  nice  machiner}^,  which  his 
uncle  had  presented  to  him,  and  when  it 
was  all  properly  adjusted  it  worked  ad- 
mirably. 

"When  James  came  to  this  mill,  he  stood 
looking  upon  it  for  a  few  moments,  and 
then,  hastily  glancing  around  him,  he 
stepped  down,  and  hit  the  wheel  with  his 
foot,  knocking  it  into  many»  pieces,  and 
then  he  ran  swiftly  away. 

"  So  quickly  was  it  all  done,  that  Peter 


OF   FORGIVENESS.  243 

had  barely  time  to  utter  a  single  exclama- 
tian  of  indignant  surprise,  before  the  boy 
had  disappeared  around  the  corner  of  the 
grove. 

"Peter  went  out  to  his  mill,  and  lo, 
what  a  sight !  It  was  a  complete  wreck  ! 
At  first  he  wanted  to  sit  down  and  cry, 
for  he  had  taken  much  pleasure  in  run- 
ning his  mill.  Then  his  heart  began  to 
swell  with  anger  against  James  for  his 
vicious  act.  Then  the  passage  came  to 
his  miitd,  'If  ye  forgive  not  men  their 
trespasses,  neither  will  your  heavenly 
Father  forgive  you;'  and  the  angry  feel- 
ing began  to  leave  his  lieart,  and  pity  for 
James,  and  a  love  for  his  soul  to  take  its 
place. 

"  Slowly  and  sadly  he  went  back  to  his 
little  room,  and  kneeling  down  by  his 
bed,  he  prayed  to  God  for  the  wicked 
boy  who  had  endeavored  to  injure  him. 
And  while  he  asked  God  to  forgive  him 
for  his  own  angry  feeling,  he  asked  also 
for  grace  that  he  might  fully  forgive 
James  for  all  he  had  done. 

"Peter  arose   from  his  knees,  with  a 


244        VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

new  purpose  in  his  heart.  He  went  to 
his  little  writing-desk,  and  taking  out  his 
writing  materials,  wrote  the  following  note : 

- ' '  Dear  James, — I  saw  you  when  yon 
broke  my  saw-mill  this  afternoon.  I  was 
sitting  at  my  chamber  window  and  could 
observe  all  that  you  did,  although  you  did 
not  see  me.  I  forgive  you  for  the  wicked 
act,  and  have  prayed  to  God  that  he  would 
forgive  you  also. 

"'Dear  James,  why  did  you  do  it? 
What  have  I  done  to  displease  you  ?  If  I 
have  been  guilty  of  anything,  I  hope  you 
will  forgive  me. 

"  '  I  wish,  James,  you  would  go  to  the 
Sabbath  school  with  me.  I  think  you 
would  then  learn  to  be  kind,  and  to  love 
to  pray  to  God,  your  heavenly  Father. 
Do  not  think  I  shall  lay  up  any  hardness 
against  you  for  what  you  have  done,  for  I 
shall  not  do  so."  I  fully  and  freely  forgive 
yon,  even  as  I  hope  my  heavenly  Father 
will  forgive  me  when  I  do  wrong. 

"  From  your  still  loving  friend, 

" '  Peter.' 


OF   FORGIVENESS.  245 

"  He  sealed  and  directed  this  note,  and 
then  gave  it  to  his  little  sister  to  cany  to 
James. 

"  The  kind  note  broke  the  hard  heart  of 
the  wicked  boy,  and  from  that  time  he  and 
Peter  became  fast  friends.  How  true  it 
is,  '  A  soft  answer  turneth  away  wratli.' 

"But  we  must  forgive  not  only,  fully 
and  speedily,  but  also, 

"  3.  Condescendingly.  If  God  should 
wait  for  the  sinner  to  come  to  him,  before 
he  exercised  kind  feeling  toward  the  sinning 
one,  there  would  never  be  forgiveness, 
for  the  sinner  would  never  come.  Hence 
we  read,  'While  we  were  yet  sinners,  he 
loved  us,'  and  manifested  that  love  by 
giving  his  Son  to  die  for  us,  and  his  Holy 
Spirit  to  invite  us  to  come  to  him.  And 
when,  softened  by  the  influence  of  the 
Spirit,  we  turn  away  from  our  sins,  and 
ask  him  to  forgive  and  save  us,  he  does 
not  wait  for  us  to  raise  ourselves  to  his 
high  presence,  but  he  stooped  to  our  in- 
firmities.    God  condescends  to  pardon. 

"So,  too,  we  must  condescend  to  for- 
give.    However  much  we  may  have  to 


246        VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

humble  ourselves,  we  should  not  hesitate 
a  moment.  Do  not  wait  for  your  enemy 
to  come  to  you,  but  go  to  him.  Tell  him 
how  fully  you  forgive  him,  and  ask  him  to 
forgive  you,  for  seldom  does  any  one  do 
us  an  injur}^,  but  we  do  some  kind  of  an 
injury  in  return.  Even  if  we  do  nothing, 
we  may  answer  unkindly,  or  our  thoughts 
may  be  evil.  It  is  always  safe  to  ask  for 
pardon. 

"  But  there  is  one  other  thing  that  you 
must  always  remember,  and  that  is, 

"  4.  We  must  forgive  affectionately. 
Willie,  will  you  turn  to  the  eighteenth 
chapter  of  Matthew,  and  read  the  last  two 
verses  ?" 

Willie  turned,  as  requested,  to  the  place, 
and  read:  "'And  his  lord  was  wroth,  and 
delivered  him  to  the  tormentors  till  he 
should  pay  all  that  was  due  unto  him.  So 
likewise  shall  my  heavenly  Father  do  also 
unto  you,  if  ye  from  your  hearts  forgive 
not  every  one  his  brother  their  tres- 
passes.' " 

"Yes,  children,  it  must  all  \>q  from  the 
heart!     Nothing  else  will  be  acceptable 


OF   FORGIVENESS.  247 

to  God.  We  must  ^love  our  enemies.'* 
Simply  to  desire  to  do  them  no  injury  is 
not  enough  ;  we  must  love  them. 

"I  have  a  story  with  which  I  will  finish 
all  that  I  shall  have  time  to  sa}'  upon  this 
subject  to-day.  I  i-ead  it  lately  in  your 
•  Sunday-School  Advocate.' 

'"Pliilip  Sydney  had  constructed  a 
beautiful  model  of  a  ship.  He  had 
carved  her  hull  with  great  skill.  Her 
masts  were  tall,  tapering,  and  smooth. 
Her  rigging  and  sails,  too,  were  fixed 
with  such  nice  care  that  even  a  sailor 
could  not  have  refused  to  admire  the 
boy's  work. 

"  '  "  Isn't  she  beautiful,  Ben?"  asked  he 
of  a  boy  who  joined  him  as  lie  sat  on  a 
rock  with  his  vessel  at  his  i^Qt. 

"'"Beautiful?  Pooh!  I  don't  see  any 
beauty  in  her,"  replied  the  boy  in  a  spite- 
ful tone  of  voice.  He  then  stepped  to  the 
spot  where  Philip's  model  was  lying,  and 
planting  his  feet  upon  it,  made  it  a  com- 
plete wreck. 

"  'This  spiteful  act  was  more  than  Phil- 
ip's heart  could  endure.     He  grew  very 


248        VOICES   FROM   THE   OLD  ELM. 

angry.  Leaping  to  his  feet,  he  struck 
Ben  a  severe  blow  in  the  face.  Ben 
stnick  back.  A  regular  flght  ensued,  in 
which  they  bruised  each  other  badly ;  but 
Ben,  being  the  stronger  of  the  two,  gave 
Philip  the  worst  beating.  Finding  him- 
self worsted,  Philip  ran  off,  saying  as  he 
went, 

u  i  u  jq]^  have  my  revenge  yet ;  Pll  make 
him  repent  of  it." 

" '  In  this  spirit  the  angry  boy  went  to 
his  grandfather,  and  repeated  the  history 
of  his  griefs.  That  good  old  man,  after 
listening  patiently  to  his  story,  replied  in 
a  very  quiet  manner : 

"'"Come  into  the  house,  Philip,  and 
let  me  examine  your  wounds." 

"  '  Philip  obeyed.  His  head  was  soon 
bound  up,  and  then  the  old  man  said : 

" ' "  Your  face  is  not  much  hurt,  my 
boy;  but  you  have  a  wound  which  is 
very  serious." 

"  ' "  What  do  you  mean,  grandfather  ?" 
asked  Philip,  looking  in  wonder. 

"  '  "  I  mean  that  you  have  a  dangerous 
wound  in  your  heart.     You  have  not  the 


OF   FORGIVENESS.  249 

spirit  of  Christ,  for  his  spirit  is  love,  meek- 
ness, gentleness,  and  peace.  Tours  is  a 
spirit  of  anger,  strife,  and  revenge.  If 
you  do  not  get  rid  of  it,  my  dear  boy,  it 
will  ruin  you  both  in  this  world  and  in 
the  world  to  come." 

" ' "  But,  grandfather,  onght  I  to  bear 
such  treatment  from  Ben,  without  resent- 
ing it?" 

"^"You  ought  to  be  ready  to  treat 
him,  Philip,  as  you  wish  your  Father  in 
heaven  to  treat  you.  You  know  the 
words  of  your  Saviour :  '  If  ye  forgive  not 
men  their  trespasses,  neither  will  your 
Father  forgive  your  trespasses.'  " 

*'*  Philip's  grandfather  said  many  other 
things  to  the  agitated  boy,  and  then  left 
him  to  his  own  thoughts.  When  alone, 
the  lad  reflected  much  on  what  had  been 
said  to  him,  and  on  his  own  anger  and 
purposes-of  revenge.  This  serious  think- 
ing brought  his  better  feelings  into  activ- 
ity, and  before  he  slept  that  night,  he 
kneeled  down,  told  all  his  sorrows  to  God, 
asked  forgiveness,  and  laid  his  head  upon 
his  pillow  with  a  quiet  spirit. 
16 


250        VOICES   FROM   THE   OLD   ELM. 

'' '  A  few  days  after  his  battle  with 
Ben,  Philip  heard  that  a  merchant  in 
the  neighborhood  wanted  an  errand-boy. 
"Xow,"  thought  he,  "I'll  have  my  re- 
venose  on  Ben." 

" '  He  knew  Ben  wanted  a  place  very 
much,  so  he  went  in  search  of  him. 
Meeting  him  after  a  long  walk,  he  said : 

" ' "  Ben,  IVe  g^ot  something  good  to 
tell  you  V 

"'Ben  was  ugly,  and  did  not  believe 
that  Philip  meant  what  he  said;  so  hie 
laughed  sneeringly  at  him,  and  replied : 

"  '  "  Got  over  the  thrashing  I  gave  you 
the  other  day?  Ready  for  more  of  the 
same  sort,  eh  V^ 

"'The  wicked  taunt  roused  the  evil*** 
spirit  in  Philip's  heart ;  but  he  offered  a 
silent  prayer  and  kept  it  under.  Clothing 
his  face  with  a  smile,  he  told  Ben  the 
reason  why  he  had  come  in  search  of 
him. 

"'Ben  put  on  a  look  of  surprise  and 
suspicion  at  first,  but  seeing  that  Philip 
was  in  earnest,  and  perceiving  that  his 
information  was  likely  to  be  of  great  value 


OF   FORGIVENESS.  251 

to  him,  his  feelings  changed.  A  bhish  of 
shame  came  over  his  cheeks,  and,  holding 
out  his  hand,  he  said  : 

^""Philip,  I  treated  you  badly  the 
other  day.  You  said  you  would  have 
your  revenge,  and  you  have  it.  You  said 
I  should  repent  of  it,  and  I  do.  Forgive 
me,  and  let  us  be  friends." 

" '  When  Philip  told  his  grandfather 
what  he  had  done,  and  how  Ben  got  the 
place,  the  good  old  man  was  delighted. 
Placing  his  hand  on  Philip's  head,  while 
a  most  heavenl}^  smile  played  over  his 
venerable  features,  he  said  : 

^' '  "  God  bless  you,  my  dear  bo3^  You 
have  now  acted  in  the  spirit  of  Christ, 
*Who,  when  he  was  reviled,  reviled  not 
again ;  when  he  suffered,  he  threatened 
not.' " ' 

"And  now,  my  dear  children,  let  us 
always  endeavor  to  return  'good  for  evil,' 
'blessing  for  cursing,'  and  kindly  deeds 
for  wanton  and  cruel  acts.  '  Be  not  over 
come  of  evil,  but  overcome,  evil  witl 
good.' " 

When  Kobert  lay  his   head  upon  Lis 


252        VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

pillow  that  night,  it  was  with  a  resolution 
firmly  fixed,  the  very  thought  of  which 
brought  glad  sunshine  to  his  young  heart. 
He  resolved  to  see  Ned  Wilder,  and  try 
what  love  could  do  toward  making  him  a 
good  boy. 


TEMPTATION.  253 


CHAPTER  XY. 

"LEAD    US    NOT    INTO    TEMPTATION,    BUT 
DELIVER   US   FROM   EVIL." 

Richard  Winthrope  still  maintained  his 
integrity.  On  the  Sabbath  he  was  seated 
in  the  house  of  God  with  his  daugliter  by 
liis  side,  and  no  more  attentive  listener 
gazed  npon  the  impassioned  speaker  tlian 
the  reformed  inebriate.  He  seemed  fairly 
to  devour  the  words  as  they  fell  from  tlie 
lips  of  the  preaclier,  and  his  strength  was 
renewed  for  still  greater  struggles,  and 
more  energetic  efforts  in  his  Master's 
cause.  His  was  no  half-way  change,  but 
a  "new  birth"  indeed;  "old  things  had 
passed  away,  and  all  things  become  new/' 

Every  moment  which  the  young  cou- 
vert  could  spare  from  his  dayly  toils,  were 
spent  in  efforts  to  gain  spiritual  knowl- 
edge, or  to  lead  othei*s  to  the  Saviour. 
He  went  out  among  his  old  associates, 
and  preached   Christ   to   them.      When 


254       VOICES   FROM   THE   OLD  ELM. 

they  jeered,  he  wept;  when  they  reviled, 
he  "  reviled  not  again ;"  and  when  they 
would  listen,  he  told  them  of  his  great 
peace.  And  God  blessed  the  efforts  of 
the  earnest  man,  and  quite  a  number 
signed  the  pledge  which  he  had  drawn 
Tip,  heading  it  with  his  own  name. 

But  he  did  not  leave  them  here.  He 
knew  full  well  that  reformation  from  some 
forms  of  vice,  without  the  regeneration  of 
the  heart,  the  real  conversion  of  the  soul 
to  God,  will  seldom  keep  the  poor  man 
from  relapsing  into  sin.  Temptation  will 
conquer,  and  habit  re-enslave  him.  He, 
therefore,  urged  upon  them  the  necessity 
of  religion,  of  faith  in  Christ,  and  depend- 
ence upon  the  Holy  Spirit  alone  for 
success. 

Some  were  convicted,  and  after  days 
of  struggling  were  enabled  to  cast  them- 
selves upon  the  merits  of  Christ,  and  to 
believe.     They  were  saved. 

These  encouraging  signs  filled  the  hearts 
of  true  Christians  with  joy  ;  and  many  com- 
menced in  good  earnest  to  pray  and  labor 
for  a  revival.     The  children,  too,  caught 


TEMPTATION.  255 

the  spirit  of  their  sires,  and  formed  plans 
for  doing  good. 

Robert  soon  found  an  opportunity  to 
tell  Edward  Wilder  how  sorry  he  was  for 
what  he  had  done.  At  first  Edward  was 
sullen,  and  repelled  the  kindness  of  the 
Christian  boy  ;  but,  by  degrees,  his  heart 
was  softened,  and  the  tears  began  to  flow, 
and  then  the  fountain  of  sorrow  was  broken 
up,  and  he  sobbed  aloud. 

Robert  put  his  loving  arms  around  the 
now  subdued  boy,  and  drew  him  kindly 
to  a  seat  upon  the  grass,  by  his  side. 
Tlien  he  told  him  about  Jesus,  and  how 
kind  and  merciful  he  was;  how  he  had 
died  to  save  sinners,  and  was  now  waiting 
to  be  gracious. 

Then  Edward  told  Robert  how  deeply 
the  words  of  the  man  who  had  reproved 
him,  out  in  the  pasture,  upon  the  day 
when  he  acted  so  wickedly  toward  little 
CLira  Winthrope,  had  sunk  into  his  heart. 
He  knew  then  that  he  had  been  doing 
very  wrong ;  and  when  the  man  spoke  as 
lie.  did,  and  Robert  so  readily  consented 
to  forgive  him,   his   heart  was   touched. 


256        VOICES   FKO^I  THE   OLD   ELM. 

He  tried  to  drive  away  the  feeling,  and 
had  partly  succeeded,  but  this  new  token 
of  love,  upon  the  part  of  Robert,  again 
subdued  him. 

Much  more  was  said  by  the  two  boys, 
as  they  sat  there  upon  the  grass ;  and  the 
result  of  the  conversation  was  that  Edward 
promised  to  pray  every  day,  to  keep  away 
from  his  former  wicked  associates,  and, 
upon  the  next  Saturda}^,  to  accompany 
Robert  to  the  meeting  in  the  Old  Elm. 

Yery  much  astonished,  and  as  highly 
pleased,  was  Uncle  Henry,  and  those  of  the 
children  who  had  not  been  informed  of 
Edward's  effort  ■  at  reform,  when  they 
SB,w  him,  in  company  with  Sarah,  Clara, 
and  Robert,  enter  the  yard.  Robert  in- 
troduced him  to  Mr.  Woodman,  who 
kindly  shook  him  by  the  hand,  expressing 
his  pleasure  at  seeing  him  there.  The 
children  also  gathered  round  him,  with 
such  happy  faces,  and  so  niany  earnest 
words  of  welcome,  that  he  could  not  pre- 
vent the  tears  springing  to  his  e3^es ;  but 
they  were  tears  of  grateful  joy.  True,  his 
clothes  were  soiled  and  ragged  ;    but  he 


TEMPTATION.  257 

forgot  all  about  this  in  the  new  pleasure 
of  loving  and  being  loved  in  return. 

Wlien  Mr.  Woodman  bowed  in  prayer, 
Edward  knelt  with  the  other  children. 
IIr»w  strange  it  seemed,  and  yet  how 
pleasant!  It  was  the  first  time  in  his  life 
that  any  one  had  ever  seen  him  kneeling 
in  prayer,  except  Robert ;  and  when  Uncle 
Henr}^  prayed  that  the  heart  of  the  peni- 
tent boy  might  be  cleansed,  and  his  soul 
converted,  how  earnestly  did  he  lift  his 
own  desires  to  God  that  it  might  be  even  so. 

"  Children,"  said  Henry,  when  they 
were  again  seated,  "  God  works  by  means. 
He  has  chosen  men  as  one  class  of  instru- 
ments with  which  to  bring  about  his  wise* 
purposes.  If  he  discovers  in  us  the  spirit 
of  obedience,  and  finds  us  ready  to  work, 
he  will  not  leave  ns  in  idk-ness ;  he  will 
give  us  work  to  do.  Little  Clara  had  this 
spirit,  and  God  made  her  the  instrument 
of  her  father's  conversion.  Robert  opened 
his  heart  to  this  influence,  and  it  led  him 
to  go  to  Edward  ;  and  I  trust  he  will  from 
this  time  be  a  reformed  and  Christian  boy. 
Let  us  never  forget  that  if  we  are  willing 


258        VOICES   FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

to  labor,  work  will  be  given  us  to  do.  Let 
us  now  turn  to  our  lesson  for  the  day. 
Robert,  will  you  read  the  text  ?" 

Eobert  opened  his  Bible,  and  read : 

" '  Lead  its  not  into  tem])tation^  hut  de- 
liver us  from  eviV  " 

"  Children,  does  God  ever  lead  us  into 
temptation  V'  asked  Mr.  Woodman. 

"  I  think  not,"  answered  Kathan. 

"What  reason  have  jou  for  thinking 
that,  Robert  ?" 

"  The  Bible  says  so,  or  something  very 
nearly  like  it,"  answered  the  boy. 

"  Please  turn  to  it,"  replied  Henry. 

Robert  turned  to  the  Epistle  of  James 
i,  13,  and  read  : 

•' '  Let  no  man  say  when  he  is  tempted, 
I  am  tempted  of  God  :  for  God  cannot  be 
tempted  with  evil,  neither  tempteth  he 
any  man.' " 

"  Yery  well,  Robert.  I  think  you  have 
.proved  your  point.  We  must,  then,  look 
for  a  different  meaning  in  the  words, 
'  Lead  us  not  into  temptation,'  from  what 
the  translators  have  given  in  our  English 
Bible.      In    the    Scriptures   God   is   fre- 


TEMPTATION.  269 

quentlj  spoken  of  as  doing  a  thing,  when 
he  ^\mi^\y  permits  it  to  be  done.  Thus  it 
is  said,  God  '  hardened  Pharaoh's  heart,' 
when  we  are  doubtless  to  understand  that 
he  permitted  Pharaoh  to  liarden  his  own 
heart.  So,  too,  here  we  are  to  understand 
tlie  w^ords,  *  Lead  us  not,'  as  meaning,  per- 
mit us  not  to  be  led ;  and  the  remaining 
words,  '  deliver  us  from  evil,'  favor  this 
interpretation  of  the  text. 

"  We  are  surrounded  by  temptations, 
and  are  in  constant  danger  of  falling  into 
them,  or,  which  signifies  the  same,  of  being 
led  awa_y  captive  by  them.  Hence  we 
are  taught  to  pray  to  our  heavenly  Father 
to  deliver  us  ;  for  he  alone  can  do  this. 
The  strongest  men  will  fall  without  liis 
aid ;  and  the  weakest  may  stand  firm 
while  trusting  in  Divine  grace. 

"  I  want  to  tell  you,  in  the  first  place, 
something  about  the  sources  of  tempta- 
tion. Tliere  are  three  sources  from  which 
all  our  temptations  proceed,  namely,  Sa- 
tan, the  world,  and  the  flesh. 

"  Satan  was  the  first  tempter.  He  en- 
tered into  the  serpent,  and,  through  him, 


260         VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

tempted  Eve  to  pluck  the  forbidden  fruit. 
And  still  he  is  in  the  earth,  walking  '  to 
and  fro,  seeking  whom  he  may '  lead  into 
sin.  He  would  deceive,  if  it  were  possi- 
ble, the  very  elect;  and  to  accomplish 
this,  the  apostle  says,  he  '  is  transformed 
into  an  angel  of  light.'  He  will  appear  to 
man  as  very  good,  deceiving  him  with 
fair  speeches  and  false  promises;  just  as 
wicked  persons  in  these  days  often  deceive 
the  good.  We  must  '  resist  the  devil,  and 
he  will  flee  from  us.' 

"The  next  source  of  temptation  is  tlie 
vjorld.  While  we  are  in  life  we  are  sur- 
rounded by  worldly  solicitations  to  sin. 
Men  are  tempted  to  seek  riches  by  unlaw- 
ful means,  forgetful  that  God  has  said, 
'  He  that  maketh  haste  to  be  rich  shall  not 
be  innocent.'  Tliey  seek  also  for  worldly 
honor.  To  be  called  Rabbi  of  men,  is  es- 
teemed as  greater  honor  than  to  be  reck- 
oned a  child  of  God.  Pleasure,  too,  cliarms 
them  from  the  paths  of  virtue  ;  and  they 
follow  her  fair,  deceiving  form  down  the 
flowery  descent  until,  too  oft,  they  are  lost 
in  the  darkness  of  the  vale  below. 


TEMPTATION.  261 

"  Yes,  dear  children,  this  world  is  full 
of  temptations,  and  we  cannot  live  long  in 
it  without  feeling  as  did  the  poet  when 
he  sung, 

'  We  should  suspect  some  danger  nigb, 
When  we  possess  delight.' 

"  Let  us,  therefore,  '  Be  not  conformed 
to  this  world ;  but  be  transformed  by  the 
renewing  of  our  minds,  that  we  may  prove 
what  is  that  good,  and  acceptable,  and 
perfect  will  of  God.' 

"  Another  source  of  temptation  is  the 
flesh.  By  this  we  mean  the  lusts  or  pas- 
sions of  our  sinful  natures  for  unlawful 
gratification.  Gluttony,  drunkenness,  and 
whatever  else  that  arises  from  our  de- 
praved passions,  may  be  considered  as 
among  the  sins  of  the  flesh.  The  tempta- 
tions to  these  originate  in  ourselves.  We 
cannot  be  tempted  to  eat  when  we  are 
sick,  because  we  lack  the  appetite.  So,  too, 
the  passion  or  appetite  must  exist  in  us,  or 
we  shall  not  feel  the  force  of  temptation : 
in  other  words,  we  cannot  be  tempted. 

It  is  important,  also,  that  we  understand 


262        VOICES   FROM   THE   OLD   ELM. 

what  is  the  usual  course  of  temptation.  If, 
dear  children,  we  look  carefully  into  our 
own  minds,  and  consider  why  we  do  things 
that  we  know  are  wrong,  we  shall  discover 
a  gradual  process  in  the  progress  of  the 
soul  toward  evil.  Let  me  suppose  a  case 
as  an  illustration. 

"  Little  Harry  Hapgood  was  sitting  on 
his  father's  doorstep  one  bright,  sunny 
morning  in  September.  Looking  over 
into  the  garden  he  saw  a  pear-tree  filled 
with  fruit;  but  they  were  'late  pears,'  and 
consequently  were  now  hard  and  bitter. 

" '  I  wish  I  had  some  ripe  pears,'  said 
Harry  to  himself.  And  just  then  he 
thought  of  the  dish  of  beautiful  ripe  'Bart- 
letts '  which  he  saw  his  mother  put  in  the 
parlor  cupboard  the  day  before. 

"  '  I  wish  I  had  one  of  them^'  again 
thought  the  boy. 

'' '  But  they  are  not  yours,  and  you 
ought  not  to  wish  for  them,'  answered 
conscience. 

"Harry  sat  a  few  moments,  thinking  of 
the  rich,  mellow  fruit,  until  his  imagina- 
tion brought  it  right  before  him. 


TEMPTATION.  263 

"^How  good  they  did  look!'  again 
thought  Harry ;  and  he  smacked  his  lips 
as  though  he  were  really  tasting  a  ripe, 
juicy  pear. 

'"Take  care!'  said  conscience;  'you 
must  not  covet  what  is  not  yours.' 

"  '  I  wonder  if  mother  would  know  it,  if 
I  should  take  just  one,'  continued  appe- 
tite, without  heeding  conscience  in  the 
least;  'it  would  be  so  good!  I  declare  I 
don't  believe  she  would!  I  must  have 
one.' 

"'What,  would  you  steal?'  asked  his 
conscience  in  a  voice  so  quick  and  loud, 
that  the  boy  fairly  started. 

"'I  don't  believe  it  would  be  stealing,' 
again  pleaded  appetite.  'Isn't  she  your 
mother,  I  should  like  to  know  V 

" '  Certainly ;  but  she  never  gave  you 
liberty  to  take  those  pears,  and  you  know 
it,  Harry  Hapgood.  If  you  do  so,  without 
her  consent,  I  will  call  you  a  thief,'  re- 
monstrated conscience. 

"  '  Well,  I  don't  care  ;  I  will  have  one 
of  those  pears  any  way  !  I  wonder  what 
great  harm  there  can  be  in  just  taking  a 


264       VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

pear  out  of  a  dish  when  there  are  lots  left. 
And  then,  I  want  one.' 

"And  so  Harry  crept  cautiously  into 
the  parlor,  having  first  made  sure  that  his 
mother  was  busy  away  out  in  the  kitchen, 
and  he  opened  the  closet,  and  there  stood 
the  dish  of  pears  right  before  him  !  How 
nice  they  looked !  He  hastily  took  one 
from  the  dish,  and  hid  it  in  his  pocket, 
glancing  timidly  over  his  shoulder  at  the 
door. 

"  '  Thief  P  cried  conscience  again,  so 
distinctly  that  poor  Harry  trembled,  and 
ran  out  of  the  room. 

"Now  let  us  trace  the  process  by  which 
little  Harry  Hapgood  was  made  a  thief. 

"  First.  He  thought  he  should  like  some 
of  those  nice  pears  which  his  mother  had 
set  away  for  another  purpose.  This  thought 
he  kept  in  his  mind,  when  he  ought  to 
have  driven  it  away  at  once.  Had  he 
done  this,  it  would  not  have  injured  him 
at  all.  But  the  thought  waked  up  imag- 
hiation,  and  imagination  brought  the  fruit 
right  before  him,  so  that  he  could  see  it 
as  plainly  as  you  can  see  your  homes  and- 


TEMPTATION.  266 

your  parents  simply  by  thinkini^  about 
them.  Can  you  not  see  how  your  home 
looks,  just  as  well  as  though  you  were 
right  there  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  chil- 
dren. 

"  Well ;  this  is  what  we  call  imagina- 
tion. You  certainly  do  not  see  these 
things  with  your  eyes,  but  your  mind, 
or  your  imagination  rather,  pictures 
them. 

"This,  then,  was  the  second  step  in 
Harry's  evil  progress.  But  he  did  not  stop 
here.  The  thought  which  he  continued 
to  keep  in  his  mind  crept  softly  down,  and 
opened  the  door  of  the  heart,  and  imme- 
diately Harry  felt  a  strong  desire  spring- 
ing up.  He  looked  upon  the  beautiful 
pears  which  imagination  pictured  to  his 
mind  with  great  delight.  This  was  the 
third  step.  Harry  took  delight  in  viewing 
the  forbidden  object. 

*'  Then  the  thought  went  up  to  the  will, 
and  having  now  the  heart  to  second  its 
efforts,  it  soon  gained  the  will's  consent 
to  the  act,  and  thus  Harry  became  a  thief. 


266       VOICES   FROM   THE   OLD   ELM. 

1.  He  had  an  evil  thought.  2.  He  .et  his 
imagination  dwell  upon  the  object.  3.  He 
took  delight  in  viewing  it.  And,  4.  The 
will  consented  to  perform  it. 

"  How  important,  therefore,  that  we 
drive  away  all  sinful  thoughts  !  We  should 
not  parley  with  them  a  single  moment, 
but  immediately  and  resolutely  cry, 
'Away,  away!' 

"  But  sometimes  actual  sight  takes  the 
place  of  imagination.  Such  was  the  case 
with  Achan,  mentioned  in  the  seventh 
chapter  of  Joshua.  When  Jericho  was 
taken  by  Joshua  and  his  men,  they  were 
commanded  by  God  either  to  destroy 
whatever  they  found  in  the  city,  or  to  de- 
vote it  to  the  Lord,  that  is,  put  it  into  the 
treasury  of  the  Lord's  house.  But  Achan 
disobeyed  this  commandment  of  the  Lord, 
and  stole  'a  Babylonish  garment,  and  two 
hundred  shekels  of  silver,  and  a  wedge  of 
gold,'  and  hid  them  in  his  tent  for  his  own 
private  use. 

''  This  act  displeased  God,  and  by  his 
providence  he  pointed  out  the  theft  to  the 
people,  and   the  thief  was  stoned.     But 


TEMPTATION.  267 

how  came  Achan  to  take  these  things? 
Let  his  own  words  answer. 

" '  When  I  saw  among  the  spoils  a 
goodly  Babylonish  garment,  and  two  hun- 
dred shekels  of  silver,  and  a  wedge  of 
gold  of  fifty  shekels  weight,  then  I  coveted 
them  and  took  them ;  and  behold,  they 
are  hid  in  the  earth  in  the  midst  of  my 
tent,  and  the  silver  under  it.' 

"  Mark  the  process  in  this  case.  *  When 
1  saw,''  then  'I  coveted,^  and  ''took^  and 
*'hid?  The  temptation  entered  hy  the  eye. 
Here  it  should  have  been  immediately 
resisted.  But  instead  of  thus  resisting, 
Achan  continued  to  look;  and  soon  the 
temptation  entered  his  heart.  Then  he 
coveted.  Then  he  said,  'I  must  have  these 
things,'  and  his  will  consented.  And 
being  tlrus  prepared  for  action,  he  says,  '  I 
took^  But  though  he  had  obtained  the 
prize,  he  was  not  at  rest.  He  knew  he 
had  done  wrong,  and  he  feared  that  he 
should  be  detected  in  his  wicked  act. 
Then  he  said  to  himself,  *I  will  hide  these 
things,  so  that  none  can  find  them.'  He 
forgot  that  God  saw  him,  for  it  is  the  ten- 


268        VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

denc}^  of  sin,  dear  children,  to  make  us 
forget  God. 

''  We  must  not  permit  ourselves  either 
to  think  about  or  to  look  upon  anything 
that  will  be  liable  to  tempt  us.  '  Go  not 
in  the  way  of  evil.  Avoid  it ;  pass  not  by 
it ;  turn  from  it,  and  pass  away.' 

"This  passage  brings  to  my  mind  a 
beautiful  incident,  in  which  it  was  em- 
ployed by  a  noble  little  fellow,  to  resist 
the  temptations  to  evil,  presented  by  his 
wicked  companions.     I  will  relate  it. 

" '"  Come,  what  shall  we  do  this  after- 
noon, John  ?"  said  two  boys,  stopping  be- 
fore the  front  yard  of  a  neighbor's  house, 
where  one  of  their  school-mates  was  stand- 
ing. It  was  Wednesday  afternoon.  To 
go  a  fishing,  or  raspberrying,  or  up  to  the 
mills,  or  over  to  Back  Cove,  they  could 
decide  which  of  all  these  would  be,  upon 
the  whole,  the  pleasantest.  At  last  it  was 
agreed  to  go  over  to  Back  Cove,  which 
was  a  strip  of  land  running  out  into  the 
sea,  where  there  were  trees  and  rocks,  and 
a  few  miserable  dwellings. 

" '  Off  the  boys  started  with  no  clear 


TEMPTATION.  269 

notions  of  what  they  meant  to  do,  only  it 
was  Wednesday  afternoon,  and  they  meant 
to  make  the  most  of  it.  After  reachinir 
the  cove,  they  amused  themselves  skip- 
ping stones  on  the  water,  carving  their 
names  on  the  trees,  and  looking  about 
here  and  there,  until  they  came  in  sight 
of  the  bowling-alley,  a  noted  gambling- 
house,  where  a  great  deal  of  wickedness 
was  carried  on.  There  were  several  car- 
riages here,  and  men  and  boys  around, 
smoking  and  lounging,  while  the  alley 
was  full  of  customers. 

"'"Let's  go  into  the  alley,"  cried  one 
of  the  boys ;  "  it^s  real  fun,  Ned  Careless 
says,  to  see  them  roll." 

"'"Good,"  cried  another. 

"'"I  don't  know  as  father  would  like 
to  have  me  go,  but  I  suppose  he  never 
need  know  it ;  I'll  go  at  any  rate,"  answer- 
ed a  third. 

"  '  "  Spoken  like  a  man,  Dick.  Come, 
John  ;  come,  Frank." 

"'"No,"  answered  John,  "I'm  not 
going ;  I'll  have  nothing  to  do  with  any 
such  placesl" 


270        VOICES  FPvOM  THE   OLD   ELM. 

"^"That's  great,"  cried  the  boy  who 
first  proposed  going ;  "  why,  you  are  not 
so  easily  hurt  as  all  that  comes  to,  are 
you  !  That's  all  nonsense.  Come,  boys ; 
come,  John,"  and  the  boys  started,  say- 
ing, "It  can't  do  any  harm  only  to  look 
on." 

" '  John  stopped.  The  others  looked 
behind,  and  saw  he  was  not  following. 

•■' ' "  Come,"  they  shouted.  "  Don't  be 
womanish." 

"  '  "  Can't,"  shouted  John  back  again  ; 
"  can't  break  orders." 

"  ' "  What  special  orders  have  you  got?" 
they  asked,  coming  back  to  where  John 
w^as  standing. 

" ' "  Guess  aunty  has  told  him  to  stay 
'  to  home,' "  said  one  mockingly.  The 
boys  laughed. 

u  c  u  ^^1]^  jQu  iiiay  laugh  as  much  as 
you  please,  boys,  but  I  have  got  orders 
not  to  go  there  ;  orders  that  I  dare  not 
disobey." 

"  ' "  It's  all  nonsense,'^  said  the  boys. 
"  You  need  not  try  to  make  us  believe 
that  anybody  has  been  giving  you  orders 


TEMPTATION.  271 

not  to  go  to  the  alley.  Come,  show  'em 
to  us,  if  you  can ;  show  us  your  orders." 

"  '  John  took  a  wallet  from  his  pocket, 
which  he  opened,  and  pulled  out  a  neatly 
folded  paper.' 

" ' "  Here  it  is ;"  and  he  unfolded  the 
paper  and  handed  it  to  Frank.  The  boy 
took  the  paper  and  read  aloud  : 

"'"Enter  not  into  the  path  of  the 
wicked,  and  go  not  in  the  way  of  evil 
men  ;  avoid  it ;  pass  not  by  it ;  turn  from 
it,  and  pass  away." 

"  '  "  Why,  it's  nothing  but  Scripture," 
Frank  cried. 

"  '  "Yes,"  said  John,  "  it  is  nothing  more 
or  less  than  the  word  of  God;  it  is  his 
order.  This  was  almost  the  first  verse  I 
ever  learned,  and  I  do  not  know  how 
many  times  my  mother  used  to  repeat  it 
to  me  before  she  died.  And  when  I  have 
a  pen  in  my  hand,  and  am  going  to  write 
without  thinking,  this  verse  always  comes 
uppermost.  So  I  always  keep  it  with  me, 
and  I've  always  minded  it;  I  minded  it 
when  I  was  a  very  little  boy,  and  I  mean 
to  now  I  am  older.     And  so,  boys,  when 


272       VOICES   FROM   THE   OLD   ELM. 

anybody  asks  me  to  go  to  bad  or  doubtful 
places,  as  I  suspect  this  to  be,  I've  got  an 
answer  for  them — my  orders  forbid  it. 
'  Go  not  in  the  way  of  evil  men ;  avoid  it ; 
pass  not  by  it ;  turn  from  it.'  There's  no 
mistake,  you  see ;  so  if  you  go  to  the 
alley,  I  go  home." ' 

"  Don't  you  think  that  John's  motto  was 
a  good  one,  children  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  they  all  answered. 

"  I  hope,  then,  you  will  make  it  your 
own.     Never  be  ashamed  to  do  right. 

''There  are  four  things,  children,  in 
temptation,  which  we  shall  do  well  to 
consider.  The  first  is  deception.  Tempt- 
ation always  commences  by  deceiving. 
The  enemy  endeavoi's  to  blind  us  to  the 
real  nature  and  sad  i-esults  of  the  sin 
which  he  presents.  He  says,  ']S"obody 
will  know  it;'  'it  won't  do  you  any  harm  ;' 
'  it  isn't  very  bad ;'  and  all  this  is  to  de- 
ceive us,  and  lead  us  to  take  the  first  step. 

"Then  comes  infection.  By  looking 
at  sin  we  become  sinful.  If  we  associate 
with  evil  companions  we  shall  soon  begin 
to  be  like  them.     'Evil  communications 


TEMPTATION.  273 

corrupt  good  manners,'  the  Bible  says ; 
and  tliis  is  true.  If  you  choose  to  go  with 
the  sinful  and  vile,  you  will  soon  be  ready 
for  the  third  step,  which  is  seduction. 
And  by  this  I  mean  being  enticed  or  se- 
duced from  what  we  know  to  be  right,  to 
do  what  we  know  to  be  wrong.  Then, 
sooner  or  later,  the  poor  victim  will  take 
the  fourth  step,  which  is  perdition,  or 
ultimate  ruin. 

"  Sin,  my  young  friends,  as  surely  leads 
to  ruin  as  poison  leads  to  death.  The 
only  safety  is  in  turning  away  from  it. 
'If  sinners  entice  thee,  consent  thou  not.' 
Watch  carefully  the  beginnings  of  evil. 
Don't  stop  to  sjoealc  with  the  tempter,  but 
say  with  all  your  might,  *Get  thee  be- 
hind me!' 

"I  have  spoken  of  the  nature  and  the 
various  sources  of  temptation,  and  our 
prayer  should  ever  be,  'Lead  us  not  into 
temptation ;'  or,  as  you  must  understand 
the  words,  permit  us  not  to  he  led  into  sin. 
God  alone  can  save  us  from  the  power  of 
evil  influences  to  which  we  are  constantly 
exposed.     Let  us  trust  in  him,  and  yield 


274       VOICES  FROM  THE  OLD  ELM. 

ourselves  to  be  led  by  his  Spirit  into  all 
truth. 

"But  we  are  not  only  to  pray  to  be 
kept  from  evil,  but  also  to  be  delivered, 
when  we  are  actually  overtaken.  And 
we  need  to  offer  this  petition  every  day, 
just  as  really  as  that  other,  'Give  us  our 
dayly  bread ;'  for,  alas !  we  have  all  been 
overtaken  of  evil,  and  need  deliverance. 
Passion  has  tarnished  and  polluted  our 
souls.  Evil  habits  are  holding  us  in  slav- 
ery. Sin  has  wounded  our  hearts,  and 
left  them  torn  and  bleeding.  Too  often 
are  we  the  servants  of  Satan.  We  need 
deliverance. 

"We  should  always  do  all  that  we  pos- 
sibly can  for  ourselves,  and  then  trust  the 
result  with  the  Lord.  He  can  deliver  us, 
and  he  will  do  so. 

"  He  will  deliver  us  from  sin.  '  I,  even 
I,  am  he  that  blotteth  out  thy  transgres- 
sions.' 'Let  the  wicked  forsake  his  way 
and  the  unrighteous  man  his  thoughts, 
and  let  him  return  unto  the  Lord,  and  he 
will  have  mercy  upon  him ;  and  to  our 
God,  for  he  will  abundantly  pardon.'     Let 


TEMPTATION.  276 

US  never  forget  that  God  '  forgiveth  iniq- 
uity, transgression,  and  sin.' 

"God  alone  can  deliver  us  from  the 
evils  of  this  life.  Think  of  Daniel  in  the 
den  with  the  hungry  lions.  See  how  they 
rush  upon  liim  with  open  jaws  and  terrific 
roar.  Will  they  •  not  certainly  devour 
him  ?  Look  again.  See  the  bright-robed 
form  approach.  He  enters  even  through 
the  sealed  door  of  the  den.  The  lions  feel 
his  power ;  and,  as  he  lays  his  hand  upon 
their  shaggy  heads,  the  fierce  gleam  of 
rage  goes  out  in  their  eyes,  and  harmless 
they  lie  at  the  old  prophet's  feet. 

"See,  too,  the  three  worthies  in  the 
heated  furnace.  How  the  flames  hiss 
out  with  their  fiery  tongues,  slaying  with 
a  breath  the  men  who  dare  to  approach 
near  enough  to  cast  the  bound  captives 
into  the  midst  of  their  ragings.  How 
soon  the  poor,  bound  men  will  die !  But, 
no  !  See !  they  walk  in  the  midst  of  the 
flames !  And  one,  like  unto  the  Son  of 
man,  is  witli  them.  God  has  delivered 
them. 

"  Yes,  children,  it  is  always  safe  to  trust 


276        VOICES  FROM  THE   OLD  ELM. 

in  God.  He  may  not  always  save  our 
bodies  as  he  did  Daniel  and  the  Hebrew 
children,  but  he  will  save  our  souls. 
These  bodies  must  die  some  time.  God 
w^ill  choose  the  best  time  and  the  best 
way.     Let  us  leave  it  all  to  him. 

"  I  love  you,  children,  very  much.  God 
has  kindly  permitted  us  to  meet  here  from 
week  to  week,  until  we  have  conversed 
upon  all  the  principal  parts  of  this  beau- 
tiful prayer.  I  want  you  to  remember 
what  I  have  said  to  you ;  and  I  hope  you 
will  dayly  pray  to  your  '  Father  in  heaven,' 
to  grant  you  all  needed  grace,  that  you 
may  be  able  to  walk  in  the  way  of  truth 
all  the  days  of  your  life.  If  we  lack  wis- 
dom, we  should  remember  that  God  has 
said,  '  If  any  of  you  lack  wisdom,  let  him 
ask  of  God,  who  giveth  to  all  men  liber- 
ally, and  upbraideth  not ;  and  it  shall  be 
given  him;'  for  truly  'Wisdom  is  the 
principal  thing ;  therefore  get  wisdom : 
and  with  all  your  gettings,  get  under- 
standing.' " 

Thus  ended  the  meetings  in  the  Old 
Elm.     Shortly  afterward  Mr.  Woodman 


TEMPTATION.  277 

entered  on  the  duties  of  the  active  min- 
istry. But  he  had  made  his  mark  on  the 
children,  who  never  forgot  his  words  of 
wisdom  and  of  love. 


t^^y/^ 


THE    END. 


BOOKS  FOR  SUNDAY  SCHOOLS. 


JiOO    Miilbcrry-strecl,     Xcw     York. 


RELIGIOUS  ANECDOTES 

Aiul  Moral  Lessons  for  Sabbuth-School  ScLolarg.  B/ 
G.  D.  CHiiNOWETn.     ISmo.,  pp.  110.     Price,  18  cents. 

STATE  AND  PROSPECTS  OF  CHINA. 

Medhurst's  State  a)icl  Prospects  of  China.  Five  lilua- 
tratioiis.     lsni'>  ,  pp.  272.     Price,  27  cents. 

AUNT  CLARA'S  STORIES 

For  her  Nephews.  Four  Illustiations.  iSmo.,  pp.  102. 
Price,  16  cents. 

ANNIE  WALTON. 

A  Tale  from  lltal  Life.  Three  lUustratious.  18mo., 
pp.119.     Price,  18  cents. 

THE  STRANGE    PLANET, 

And  other  Allegories.  With  Illustrations.  ISmo., 
pp.  117.     Price,  18  cents. 

THE  CHINESE ; 

Or,  Conversations  on  the  Country  and  People  of  China. 
Illustrated.     ISmo.,  pp.  144.     Price,  19  cents. 

OLD  ANTHONY'S  HINTS 

To  Young  People,  to  make  them  both  Cheerful  and 
Wise.  Five  Illustrations.  18mo.,  pp.  1G6.  Price, 
20  cents. 

LEARNING  TO  CONVERSE. 

Illustnite.l.     ISmo.,  pp.  lU.     Price,  18  cents. 
LEARNING  TO   ACT. 

Three  Illustrations.     18mo.,  pp.  144.     Price,  20  cents. 
LEARNING  TO  FEEL. 

Illustrated.    Two  volumes,  18mo.,pp.  148, 150.    Price, 

40  cents. 

EPHRAIM  HOLDING'S  HOMELY  HINTS 

To  Sunday-School  Teachers.  ISmo.,  pp.  213.  Price, 
24  cents.  " 


BOOKS  FOR  SUNDAY  SCHOOLS. 


aOO    Mulberry-street,    New     York. 


AJVI03  ARMFIELD; 

Or,  The  Leather-covered  Bible.  Five  Illustrations.. 
ISmo.,  lip.  loJ.     Price,  20  cents. 

OUR  TALENT  IMPROVED ; 

Or,  The  Life  aud  Labors  of  Miss  Susan  G.  Bowler,  a 
Successful  Sundav-School  Teacher.  By  B,  K.  Beirce. 
18mo.,  pp.  197.     Price,  23  cents. 

USEFUL  TRADES ; 

Oi,  How  to  Work.  A  book  for  Week-day  Reading. 
Designed  to  mingle  Religious  Instruction  with  Useful 
Knowledge.  Illustrated.  Two  volumes,  18mo.,  pp. 
172,  221.'    Price,  43  cents. 

THE  CHILDREN  OF  ISRAEL: 

Journeys  of  the  Children  of  Israel,  and  their  Settle- 
ment in  the  Promised  Land.  With  Illustrations. 
ISmo.,  pp.  253.     Price,  26  cents. 

THE  BELOVED  PHYSICIAIT ; 

Or,  The  Life  and  Travels  of  Luke  the  Evangelist.  By 
WiLij.vM  A.  Alcott.  Four  Illustrations.  18mo.,  pp. 
179.     Price,  21  cents. 

THE  M'GREGOR  FAMILY. 

By  a  Methodist  Preacher.  Three  Illustrations.  ISmo, 
pp.  119.     Price,  IS  cents. 

THE  COTTAGE  ON  THE  MOOR  : 

Or,  The  Evils  of  Pride.  By  a  Methodist  Preacher 
ISmo.,  pp.  126.     Price,  IS  cents. 

SEA-STAR  AND  LOBSTER. 

Illustrated.     ISmo.  pi).  74.     Price,  IG  cents. 
KINDNESS  TO  ANIMALS. 

By    CH.\.rj.oTTE    Elizabeth.      Seven     IllusttatijEi* 

18mo.,  pp.  128.     Price,  IS  cents. 

OORAL-MAIiER  AND  FISH. 

Illustrated.     ISmo.,  pp.  75.     Price,  16  cents. 
82 


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